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“oi HAVE FOUND IT!” YELLED JERRY. “ OI HAVE FOUND THE 

treasure!” 


BURIED TREASURE 

A Tale of An Old House 


BY 

EVERETT McNEIL ^ 

M 

AUTHOR OF “THE LOST NATION” “THE TOTEM OF BLACK HAWK” 
“THE CAVE OF GOLD” “ IN TEXAS WITH DAVY 
CROCKETT” ETC., ETC. 



NEW YORK 

DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 




Copyright, 1919, by 
Duffield and Company < 



* 


OCl lb 1919 ' 



©Cl. A 5 3 6 1 8 8 ^ 

Recorded 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I On the Great Council-Stone of 

the Dead Chiefs 3 

II Promised Excitement .... 20 

III A Quaint Old House .... 30 

IV The Secret Treasure- Vault . . 37 

V The Mystery of the Buried Treas- 
ure 44 

VI The Torn Parchment .... 48 

VII The Ghost-Room 55 

VIII The Pitiful Tale of Sweet Little 

Kitty Wyndt 59 

IX The Ghost 65 

X The Room of the Secret Panels . 76 

XI The Magic Poker 82 

XII Signs of Trouble 93 

XIII The Men in the Red Automobile 102 

XIV The Rival Mascots 118 

XV The Hunt for the Secret Tunnel 128 

XVI A Wonderful Mascot . . . . 138 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVII “If We Could Only Do Something 

to Help Mrs. Rosewood” . . . 150 

XVIII What Came of the Visit to Dean 

Alton 158 

XIX The Old Diary .... • • 170 

XX The Old Chimney . . . . . 185 

XXI How the Mascots Helped . . . 195 

XXII The Buried Treasure . . . . 205 

XXIII Dean Alton Again ..... 219 

XXIV All Is Well That Ends Well . 229 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING PAGE 

“Oi have found it!” yelled Jerry. “Oi have 
found the treasure ! ” . . . Frontispiece 

“The house looks to-day just about as it did 
when General and Mrs. Knox stepped out on 
its long porch to welcome General Washing- 
ton, as he dismounted from his horse” . . 26 

“Say, but wouldn’t that roof make a dandy to- 
boggan-slide in the winter?” and Kay’s eyes 
followed curiously the long, slanting roof that 
ran from the high peak down to within a few 


feet of the ground 32 

“Oh, but look over there!” cried Williamina. 

“There are the ruins of something” . . . 120 

“But,” and Williamina hesitated, “you — you 
surely do not mean me to keep this precious 
little book that your own great-grandmother 
wrote when she was a little girl, do you?” . 178 

“You see, you start from the keystone in the east 


end of the arch of the bridge and measure off 


just as many feet as it tells you to, in the di- 
rection it tells you to, and you will come to a 
flat rock, and buried six feet under this flat 

rock is the treasure” 204 

The long-buried treasure of Mrs. Kosewood’s 
long-dead ancestor stood once more on top of 
the earth 210 





































BURIED TREASURE 


✓ 






























V* 


I* 



















BURIED TREASURE 


CHAPTER I 

ON THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE OF THE DEAD 
CHIEFS 

SOME two miles back from the west shore 
of the beautiful Hudson River and a little 
more than five miles southwest of the old his- 
toric town of Newburg lies Boulderland. 
Rugged hills and thicket-overgrown woods 
surround Boulderland; and great, oblong, 
oval, round and flat boulders, some of them 
as large as houses, thrust their weather-pol- 
ished bulks atop the ground, like the half- 
buried skulls of huge antediluvian monsters. 
Around and across it run many stone fences, 
weather-stained and moss-overgrown, and 
through it flows Silver Stream, its pebbly, 
boulder-strewn bottom crooked as a snake’s 
trail, down to where an ancient dam swells its 
3 


4 


BURIED TREASURE 


waters into a small pond, thence under the 
arch of an old stone bridge and on down into 
the wooded depths of The Glen, where it tum- 
bles its waters over huge boulders, through a 
deep ravine, until they finally join the sullen 
flow of Murderer’s Creek. 

Here, on the broad bosom of a great flat- 
topped boulder, was born, one summer’s day, 
the Boulder Club, the happy thought of a 
dozen happy girls and boys out for a stroll 
through its pleasant fields. They, this Happy 
Dozen, were not natives of Boulderland, but 
came from the great city to the south, where 
huge walls of bricks and stone take the place 
of trees and singing birds, and where the soft 
cool ground and the fresh green grass never 
touch the feet of those who walk its streets. 
Because of this, Boulderland was a wonder- 
land to them, with many mysteries awaiting 
their solving and many hidden nooks to be 
searched out and explored; and, on this sum- 
mer’s day, accompanied by Aunt Betty, the 
only grown-up in the party, who was to be 
their friend and counselor during their stay 
in the country, they had started out to explore 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE 5 

the Field of the Great Stones in the northern 
part of Boulderland; and, after many joyous 
wanderings about, had come to the great flat- 
topped boulder. 

“Let us rest here on the top of this huge 
boulder,” suggested Aunt Betty, whose legs 
were beginning to tire. “I fancy it must have 
been the council-stone of Indian chiefs in the 
long ago ; and we, too, will make of it a coun- 
cil-stone. All in favor of the suggestion make 
a rush for its flat top.” 

There was a whirr of knickerbockers and 
dresses, the clatter of shoes on the hard rock, 
a shrill yell or two. and girlish shrieks and 
laughs; and the Happy Dozen had settled 
down on top of the great boulder, like a flock 
of fluttering birds. 

“Unamimous,” declared Aunt Betty, as she 
seated herself in their midst. “Now let us 
see if there are any lost, strayed or stolen. 
Constance, one,” and she began counting 
slowly, her eyes twinkling merrily as they 
glanced over the bright faces of the rest- 
less little bodies that clustered around her. 
“Ethel, two; Williamina, three; Jennie, four; 


BURIED TREASURE 


Mildred, five; Ruth, six; Gladys, seven; Ila, 
eight; Ray, nine; Arthur, ten; George, 
eleven; Jerry, twelve — Glory be, not a-one 
strayed, lost or stolen!” and a smile joined the 
twinkling eyes. “Now, let us get down to the 
business before us, which was to hold a coun- 
cil on this ancient council-stone of the red 
men ” 

“But, do you really think that the Indian 
chiefs once sat on this very stone and smoked 
their peace-pipes, while they held their coun- 
cils?” Ray interrupted excitedly, his eyes 
glancing curiously around. 

“It certainly would make a splendid coun- 
cil-stone,” declared Aunt Betty; “and there is 
no reason why the Indians should not have 
made use of it for that purpose. But, let us 
have a look at its center. You know, if the 
chiefs held their councils here, they would 
have sat and smoked their pipes around a fire; 
and we might find some marks of the fires on 
the rock, even after all these years.” 

All now, especially the four boys, began an 
eager examination of the center of the flat top 
of the huge boulder; and, to their delight and 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE 7 

satisfaction, they found, or fancied that they 
found, faint traces of these prehistoric fires 
in a slightly blackened little hollow near the 
center of the stone. This was considered 
ample historic proof, at least by the boys, that 
the Indian chiefs had often lit their council- 
fires here; and the huge, flat-topped boulder 
was at once christened the Great Council- 
Stone of the Dead Chiefs. 

“Now, let us build a fire in the hollow and 
seat ourselves around it, just as if we were In- 
dians,’’ suggested Ray. “Then we can hold 
our council.” 

Ray’s suggestion was eagerly adopted, and 
soon a fire was burning briskly in the little 
hollow of the Great Council-Stone of the 
Dead Chiefs, with the children squatted 
around it in true Indian fashion. 

“Warriors and — and squaws,” and Aunt 
Betty arose and stood, as if infolded with the 
dignity and the blanket of an Indian chief- 
tainess, “we have lit the council-fire and have 
formed the council-circle and are now ready 
to listen to such words of wisdom as the Great 
Spirit sends to His children. Open your lips 


BURIED TREASURE 


that we may hear what is in your hearts,” and 
the stern Indian-chieftainess-like eyes twin- 
kled. 

“Seems to me,” began Ethel, her eyes 
sparkling with animation, “that, since we are 
all to be here for about three weeks, we ought 
to organize ourselves into a club or something, 
so that we can do things better. I ” 

“Bully!” broke in Ray, half jumping to his 
feet in his excitement. “That’s a bully idea. 
Let’s form a club, and — and call it the Red 
Sons and Daughters of the Forest, or some- 
thing Indian.” 

“Silly! We aren’t red, at least I’m not,” 
and Mildred’s dark eyes snapped, “and we 
aren’t Indian, nor sons and daughters of In- 
dians, and we do not live in the forest. Now,” 
and the thought wrinkles gathered on her fore- 
head, “I — I — O, let’s call it,” and her face 
brightened, “The Busy Bees’ Golden Circle! 
Now, don’t you think that’s a perfectly beau- 
tiful name?” 

“Punk! Perfectly punk!” and the down- 
ward gesture of Ray’s fist showed his disgust 
as plainly as did his face. “The Busy Bees’ 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE 9 

Golden Circle! Phew! Sounds like an old 
maid’s missionary meeting.” 

Mildred’s face flushed; but, before she 
could speak, Aunt Betty pressed one of her 
hands warmly. 

“Never mind,” she whispered. “I am sure 
the thought behind it was lovely, even if the 
name isn’t exactly suited to our club. I knew 
a number of girls who formed a club and gave 
it a name almost exactly like that; and 
they were some of the loveliest girls I 
ever knew.” 

“I think,” suggested Williamina, “that, 
since there are so many boulders all around 
us, it would be fine to call our club the Boul- 
der Club.” 

“Splendid! Splendid!” and Constance 
clapped her hands together delightedly. 
“And we could always hold our meetings on 
a boulder. I move that we name our club 
the Boulder Club.” 

“Anybody second the motion?” inquired 
Aunt Betty, smiling. 

“I do” — “I do,” cried Mildred and Ray, 
almost in one voice, both anxious to show that 


IO 


BURIED TREASURE 


they bore no ill will because the names they 
had suggested did not suit. 

“Good!” and Aunt Betty rose to her feet. 
“You have all heard the motion. Any re- 
marks? If not we will put the question. All 
those in favor please yell, Aye!” 

“Aye!” yelled every one, at the top of his or 
her voice. 

“The motion is carried unanimously, and 
the name of the club is, therefore, the Boul- 
der Club. Now, you will need a president, a 
vice-president, a secretary and a treasurer.” 

“I move,” and Constance jumped nimbly to 
her feet, “that we now proceed to the election 
of officers by ballot.” Constance had be- 
longed to the High School Literary Society 
and she was now putting some of the parlia- 
mentary knowledge there acquired to use. 

The motion was promptly seconded and 
carried; and, in a moment more, all began 
scratching away with their pencils on the 
paper ballots that had been handed to them, 
all except Jerry, the little red-headed Irish 
boy, whose eyes were staring a little blankly 
and wonderingly at the face of Aunt Betty. 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE n 


“Oi write the name of the wan Oi want to 
be prisidint on this paper?” he inquired 
doubtfully. Jerry had been in America only 
a few months and some of the brogue of the 
“ould sod” still clung to him. 

“Yes,” smiled Aunt Betty, “just write the 
name on the slip of paper and drop it into my 
hat.” 

“Shure,” and Jerry’s face brightened. “I 
know wan foine prisidint.” 

Aunt Betty now passed the hat around and 
collected and counted the ballots. 

“Twelve votes have been cast,” she an- 
nounced, when the count had been completed, 
“of which Constance receives seven, Ethel 

three, Williamina one and — and ” Aunt 

Betty paused and held up the last ballot where 
she could study the writing on it closely. Sud- 
denly her face broke into a smile. “And 
Teddy Roosevelt one,” she concluded. 

“Thot is him! Thot is him!” and Jerry, 
who had been watching excitedly while the 
last ballot was being examined, jumped to his 
feet. “Teddy shure would make wan foine 
prisidint. My father says ” But here the 


12 


BURIED TREASURE 


yells of laughter that greeted his words caused 
him to sit down very suddenly, while his eyes 
stared around the circle of laughing faces in 
wondering astonishment that soon changed to 
wrath, which Aunt Betty was quick to notice 
and to mollify. 

“Jerry,” she said, swiftly straightening out 
the smile on her own face, “your voting for 
Teddy Roosevelt was great; and shows that 
you have already caught the American spirit. 
But we were only voting to find out which one 
of you girls or boys should be president of the 
Boulder Club, not who would make a good 
president of the United States.” 

“O-O-O! Oi see,” and the look of wrath 
left the face of Jerry and his mouth broadened 
into a grin. “Oi vote for the wan Oi want to 
be prisidint of the Boulder Club. Bully! Oi 
vote for Williamina.” 

Again everybody laughed 'and Williamina’s 
face flushed just a little; for, ever since her 
kind hands had so tenderly bound up a finger 
that he had cut while making her a willow 
whistle, the little Irish lad’s loyalty to her 
had been bounded only by his opportunities; 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE 13 

and had subjected her to just a little teasing 
from her companions. 

“That gives Williamina two votes, but it 
still leaves Constance with a majority. There- 
fore, Constance has been elected the first pres- 
ident of the Boulder Club; and I will now 
take upon myself the honor of escorting her 
to the presidential chair, which,” and Aunt 
Betty glanced around, “of course, must be a 
boulder. I will delegate you four great boys 
to get the president’s chair and to place it 
where it belongs,” and, pointing to an oblong 
boulder about as large as the largest water- 
mellon you ever saw, which lay a few feet 
away from the Great Council-Stone of the 
Dead Chiefs, she nodded to Ray, Arthur, 
George and Jerry. 

In another minute the strong arms of the 
four boys had lifted the boulder and had 
borne it to the place of honor near the council- 
fire; and the president’s chair was ready for 
the president. 

Constance, as was befitting the one receiv- 
ing all these honors, blushed, stammered out 
a few words of appreciation and then pro- 


i 4 BURIED TREASURE 

ceeded with the election of the other officers, 
with the result that Arthur was elected vice- 
president, Williamina secretary and Ethel 
treasurer. 

“Now, I think we ought to have a commit- 
tee, or something, to think out interesting 
things for us to do,” suggested Mildred. 

“No speaking pieces!” exclaimed Gladys 
hastily. 

“Nor writing essays!” added Ruth. 

“Of course not,” declared Jennie. “Who 
wants to speak pieces or write essays up here? 
We get all we want of that at school.” 

“But, what shall we do?” queried Wil- 
liamina. 

“That’s what we want a Thinkout Commit- 
tee for — to tell us,” explained Mildred. 

“Miss President, would it be in order for 
me to make a few remarks?” smiled Aunt 
Betty. 

“Certainly,” answered the president. 

“I agree with Gladys and Ruth,” began 
Aunt Betty, “that we do not want any speak- 
ing or essay writing; but something that will 
interest and amuse all of us, with lots of fun 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE 15 

mixed in with it. Now that Thinkout Com- 
mittee seems to be just what we need to get 
that sort of program; and, therefore, I move 
that the president be instructed to appoint 
three members of the Boulder Club to act on 
such a committee; and that it shall be the duty 
of this committee to think out some interest- 
ing thing for the club to do for the part of the 
day remaining after each business session is 
held.” 

“Second the motion!” shouted Arthur. 

“You have all heard the motion, any re- 
marks?” queried the president. 

“Miss President,” and Ethel arose a bit em- 
barrassedly to her feet, “we want Aunt Betty 
on that committee.” 

“Sure,” agreed Ray. “She could think out 
more things to do in a minute than the rest of 
us could in a week.” 

“Thank you,” and Aunt Betty smiled her 
appreciation of Ethel’s and Ray’s good opin- 
ion; “but it seems to me that you young folks 
should hold all the offices and fill all the com- 
mittees. Of course, I shall be glad to help 
you all that I can in every way that I can.” 


16 BURIED TREASURE 

“I know what we will do with Aunt Betty,” 
and the president smiled. ‘We will make her 
Adviser Extraordinary and Counselor Pleni- 
potentiary to the Boulder Club.” 

“Make her what?” and Ray scratched his 
head and stared open-mouthed at the presi- 
dent. “Bet you can’t say that again, Con — 
Miss President, so that it sounds the same.” 

“Order! Order!” laughed Aunt Betty. 
“The question, Miss President, let us have the 
question.” 

“If there are no further remarks,” and 
Constance glanced as threateningly toward 
Ray as the grin on her face permitted, “we 
will put the question. All those in favor of 
the motion, please say, aye.” 

“Aye!” cried all. 

“Carried unanimously,” announced the 
president, without waiting to put the con- 
trary vote. “Now,” and Constance smiled and 
looked at Ray, “shall we make Aunt Betty 
Adviser Extraordinary and Counselor Pleni- 
potentiary of the Boulder Club?” 

“Bully for you! You did it!” and Ray 
grinned his approval. “But, are you sure 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE 17 

Aunt Betty can stand being made all that?” 

“ O, shut up!” laughed Constance, forget- 
ting her presidential dignity for the moment. 
“Anybody make a motion to that effect?” 

“Miss President,” and Williamina rose 
slowly to her feet, as if the thought of the 
linguistic feat she was about to attempt almost 
overpowered her, “I move that we make Aunt 
Betty Ad-adviser Extra-a-or-dinary and Coun- 
selor Plenti-po-po ” 

“Plenty potatoes!” suggested Ray kindly. 

“The thing you said,” and Williamina sat 
down, her eyes sending indignant flashes at 
the face of Ray. 

The motion was seconded and carried unan- 
imously; and Aunt Betty became Adviser Ex- 
traordinary and Counselor Plenipotentiary to 
the Boulder Club. 

“Any further business?” inquired the presi- 
dent. 

“I think we ought to have a club yell,” and 
George jumped to his feet. “Something that 
will let everybody within hearing distance 
know that we are the Boulder Club, when we 
yell it ” 


BURIED TREASURE 


18 


“You bet,” agreed Ray emphatically. 
“Something that starts off with a lot of crazy 
yelps and yells and bangs and ends with Boul- 
der Club, yelled just as loud as our mouths 
can holler it.” 

“We certainly must have a club yell,” de- 
clared Constance. “That will be something 
for the Thinkout Committee to think out and 
bring with them to our next meeting.” 

“When will that be?” queried Ruth. 

“Every day!” cried Ray. “It’s going to be 
great fun and I think we ought to meet every 
day, except Sundays.” 

“No, no,” contended Gladys. “We girls 
have things to do and can’t meet every day. 
I think every other afternoon, not counting 
Sundays, would be about right.” 

“Let’s take a vote on it,” suggested Will- 
iamina. 

“Good,” agreed Constance. “We will vote 
on it. Write on a slip of paper how often you 
wish to meet and the time that gets the most 
votes wins.” 

Accordingly slips of paper were prepared 
and passed around; and, when the ballots 


THE GREAT COUNCIL-STONE 19 

were counted, it was found that the every- 
other-days'had won. 

“Our next meeting, then, will be day after 
to-morrow at one o’clock, prompt, on the 
Great Council-Stone of the Dead Chiefs,” de- 
clared Constance. 

“And, if the Thinkout Committee hasn’t 
thought out something good for us to do, we’ll 
— we’ll duck them in the pond,” threatened 
Ethel. 

“And scrub their heads with Sapolio, to 
brighten them up,” warned Ruth. 

“I think we have done enough thinking and 
sitting and talking for one day. My head is 
tired,” complained Jennie. “I move that we 
adjourn and go wading in Silver Stream.” 

The motion was quickly seconded and 
promptly carried; and, in five minutes more, 
the twelve girls and boys, barefooted and bare- 
legged, were wading and splashing joyously 
in the cool waters of Silver Stream. 


CHAPTER II 


PROMISED EXCITEMENT 

Fortunately the air was cool and the skies 
were clear on the afternoon of the day of the 
next meeting of the Boulder Club; and, 
promptly at one o’clock, all had assembled on 
the Great Council-Stone of the Dead Chiefs; 
and the council-fire was kindled and the coun- 
cil-circle formed and the meeting called to 
order by the president. The roll was called 
and the minutes of the previous session were 
read with a rush, for all were anxious to get to 
the report of the Thinkout Committee as 
speedily as possible and learn what their 
thinkers had thought out for that afternoon’s 
doing. 

“Any other business to come before the club 
before we hear the report of the Thinkout 
20 


PROMISED EXCITEMENT 21 


Committee?” the president inquired, the mo- 
ment the secretary finished reading the min- 
utes and sat down. 

“No! No! We want the report of the 
Thinkout Committee! We want to know 
what we are to do!” came from all parts of 
the council-circle, while Arthur shouted im- 
patiently: “The club yell! Give us the club 
yell! We want to try it. What’s the use of 
all this fussing?” 

“Very well, then,” declared the president; 
“we will now listen to the report of the Think- 
out Committee,” and her eyes and the eyes of 
the others turned to Mildred, chairwoman of 
the Thinkout Committee. 

Vivacious Mildred jumped quickly to her 
feet, her dark eyes twinkling with excitement. 

“We have made a beautiful yell,” she de- 
clared triumphantly; “and we have thought 
out the most delightful and interesting thing 
to do this afternoon. Now, we will give the 
yell,” and, at a motion of her hand, Jennie 
and Ray, the two other members of the 
Thinkout Committee, jumped to their feet, 
threw back their heads, opened their mouths 


22 


BURIED TREASURE 


wide, and, with all the vim and abandonment 
of joyous youth, yelled: 

“Ki! Yi! Hi! 

Biss! Boom! Bi! 

Who — are — we? 

Who — are — we? 

Can’t you see, O you dub? 

We are the Boulder Club! 

Boulder! Boulder!! Boulder Club!!!” 

“Mercy! It is a good thing we are miles 
from everybody, or they’d surely think a 
lunatic asylum was having a celebration. 
But, it is a great yell. I like it. Now, let us 
all try. If three can make a noise like that, 
we all ought to do dandy. How does it go?” 
and Constance, forgetting in her excitement 
the dignities of her office, sprang to her feet, 
followed by all the others. 

“We have written it out on slips of paper, 
one for each of you,” and Mildred thrust one 
hand into the bosom of her dress and drew 
out a small thin box. “They are in here. 
Take one and pass it along,” and she handed 


PROMISED EXCITEMENT 23 

the box to Ruth, who stood next to her. 

The strips of paper were quickly distributed 
and eagerly scanned and studied; and soon all 
were ready to have a try at the yell. 

“Now, then, everybody get ready to yell!” 
cried Constance, waving her slip of paper like 
the baton of a bandmaster. “Now, ready! 
One — two — three! Yell!” And, for the first 
time in the history of the world the full-voiced 
yell of the Boulder Club went echoing 
through the woods and vales and over the 
rocks of Boulderland. 

“How was that? Didn’t we do it dandy for 
the first time?” and Ethel turned her glowing 
face to Aunt Betty, who had not yelled but 
had listened. 

“Great!” she answered. “I do not believe 
the boys in any college in the country could 
have done it better. Miss President,” and she 
turned to Constance, “I move that the yell just 
given be the authorized legalized yell of the 
Boulder Club; and that hereafter it be given 
at the opening and the closing of each session.” 

“Second the motion,” cried Arthur enthusi- 
astically. “It’s a splendid yell.” 


24 


BURIED TREASURE 


“Any remarks,” and the president paused a 
moment. “If not, all those in favor of the 
motion make it manifest by rising and giving 
the yell of the Boulder Club. Now, ready — 
one — two — three — yell !” 

All, including Aunt Betty this time, joined 
in the yell. 

“Fine! Carried unanimously,” declared 
Constance, as the council-circle again squatted 
around the council-fire. “I think we have a 
yell that will make folks sit up and take 
notice ” 

“Or stuff cotton in their ears,” finished Ray, 
grinning delightedly. 

“Now, what is that ‘most delightful and 
interesting thing’ that we are to do this after- 
noon?” queried Williamina. “I am dying to 
hear what it is.” 

“It will be bully interesting,” asserted Ray 
joyously. “But you girls mustn’t get scart, 
even if there are ghosts in it!” he added mys- 
teriously, winking one eye at Aunt Betty. 

“Ghosts!” chorused the girls excitedly. 

“O, do hurry and tell us what it is!” begged 
Williamina. 


PROMISED EXCITEMENT 25 

“Yes,” and Constance, remembering that 
she was president, jumped to her feet. “We 
will now hear the further report of the Think- 
out Committee.” 

All eyes again turned to Mildred, who arose 
to her feet. 

“I think you will be pleased,” she began, 
“with what we have ” 

“O, cut out the fussings and tell us what 
it is!” broke in Arthur impatiently. 

“With what we have thought out to do this 
afternoon,” Mildred continued, glaring at 
Arthur. “We are to visit the General Knox 
Headquarters House; and Aunt Betty is to 
tell us all about the house; and show us the 
secret treasure-vault and the secret panels and 
the ghost-room and the witches’ stairway and 
— and — O, there is a lot of interesting things 
to see and to hear about at the old house.” 

“Yes,” smiled Aunt Betty. “Mrs. Rose- 
wood, the very kind lady who lives in the Gen- 
eral Knox Headquarters House, has given the 
Boulder Club a most cordial invitation to visit 
her interesting home this afternoon. Mrs. 
Rosewood is a descendant of the Ellisons, who 


26 BURIED TREASURE 

owned and lived in the house during Revolu- 
tionary times.” 

“But, why is it called the General Knox 
Headquarters House?” queried Ethel. 

“Because General Knox, one of the famous 
generals of the Revolutionary War, made the 
house his headquarters for a little over a year 
during the war; and, while living here, he 
was often visited by General Washington and 
General Lafayette and other Revolutionary 
generals that you have read about in your 
histories.” 

“But we won’t have to study up any history 
about them ourselves, will we?” questioned 
Jennie, a bit doubtfully. “I never could get 
interested in history books.” 

“Of course not,” volunteered Ray, a little 
scornfully. “Aunt Betty will just tell us all 
the interesting things and leave all the dull 
parts for the history books. That’s what his- 
tory books are for — dates and things that a 
fellow has to learn at school.” 

“No,” and Aunt Betty smiled at Ray’s inter- 
pretation of the value of history books, “we 
will not study the history from books; but 



THE HOUSE LOOKS TO-DAY JUST ABOUT AS IT DID WHEN GENERAL AND MRS. KNOX STEPPED OUT ON 
ITS LONG PORCH TO WELCOME GENERAL WASHINGTON, AS HE DISMOUNTED FROM HIS HORSE.” 










PROMISED EXCITEMENT 27 

r from the old building itself. The house looks 
today just about as it did when General and 
Mrs. Knox stepped out on its long porch to 
welcome General Washington, as he dis- 
mounted from his horse; and I think we can 
make a very interesting afternoon of it. How 
do you like the idea?” 

“Bully!” shouted the boys. 

“Splendid!” cried the girls. 

“And, if there are any ghosts in the old 
house, be sure and trot them out. I should 
like to see them,” Arthur added a little boast- 
fully. 

“O!” exclaimed Williamina, horrified by 
his levity. “Don’t talk that way about ghosts. 
They might hear you.” 

“Nonsense,” laughed Constance. “There 
isn’t any such a thing as a ghost. If Arthur 
really thought there were ghosts, he would not 
be so brave. 

“Pshaw!” and Arthur’s face reddened a 
little. “Why should a fellow be afraid of 
ghosts, when he can punch his fist right 
through them and not even make a hole? 
There isn’t anything solid to a ghost; and it 


28 


BURIED TREASURE 


takes something solid to hurt a fellow. I don’t 
believe in ghosts anyway.” 

“I thought not,” laughed Constance. “But, 
maybe, when you have sat in the ghost-room, 
you will,” she added mysteriously. “Now, if 
there is no further business to come be- 
fore the house, a motion to adjourn to the 
General Knox Headquarters House is in 
order.” 

The motion was promptly made and sec- 
onded and carried. 

“Now,” and Constance jumped to her feet, 
“we must give the club yell before getting off 
the Great Council-Stone of the Dead Chiefs. 
Everybody — yell!” 

All yelled at the very top of their voices, 
some of them even jumping up and down in 
their efforts to get a greater volume of sound 
out of their mouths. 

“Say, have any of you girls a pin?” Ray 
asked, holding onto the front of his trousers, 
as they hurried off the Great Council-Stone of 
the Dead Chiefs. “I busted a button off my 
pants, when I made that last yell. But it was 
a great yell!”' 


PROMISED EXCITEMENT 29 

Ethel quickly found the needed pin; and, 
when Ray had put the pin in the right place, 
all formed in line and the start for the Gen- 
eral Knox Headquarters House was made. 


CHAPTER III 


A QUAINT OLD HOUSE 

Down the banks of Silver Stream they 
marched, through the Field of the Great 
Stones, until they came to where Silver Stream 
widened into The Pond. Then they crossed 
a public road, that passed over the middle of 
the pond, dividing it almost in two, like a 
tight-drawn belt around the waist of a fat 
woman — and they stood before the narrow, 
arched, stone gateway that gave entrance to 
the grounds of the General Knox Headauar- 
ters House. 

“Now,” and Aunt Betty smiled, as the ex- 
cited children passed, with many curious 
glances about them, under the rough stone 
arch of the gateway and on into the parklike 
grounds lying to the back of the house, “we 
are walking on ground where the feet of 
3Q 


A QUAINT OLD HOUSE 31 

Washington and Lafayette and Knox and 
many other heroes of the Revolution must 
have often walked; and, possibly, we are now 
under the very trees that looked down on them, 
as now they are looking down on us. I ” 

“O, I see the house !” suddenly exclaimed 
one of the girls who had run on a short dis- 
tance ahead of the others; and instantly there 
was a stampede of Aunt Betty’s audience for 
the point of vantage. 

“Hurry!” and Ethel glanced back toward 
Aunt Betty. “We want to get into that queer- 
looking house. You can tell us the rest some 
other time.” 

“Why, how queer! The front yard is back 
of the house! and the back of the house faces 
the road!” exclaimed Williamina, turning a 
questioning face to Aunt Betty, as she came 
hurrying up to where the children stood. 
“Were all houses built that way then?” 

“No,” laughed Aunt Betty. “But this par- 
ticular house has its front yard, as you call it, 
back of the house. The public road has been 
changed since the house was built, so that now 
it runs back of the house; but you can still see 


32 


BURIED TREASURE 


where the road once ran directly in front of 
the house.” 

“Why, what a lot of chimneys!” cried Jen- 
nie. They had now come to where they had 
an unobstructed view of the back of the house. 
“One — two — three — four, and one great big 
one — five! What in the world did they want 
so many chimneys for?” 

“The house was built before the days of 
stoves and furnaces,” explained Aunt Betty, 
“when rooms were heated by open fireplaces, 
and every fireplace had to have a chimney into 
which to open directly. This made more 
chimneys necessary than are needed now, 
when a furnace, with one chimney, can heat a 
large house.” 

“Say, but wouldn’t that roof make a dandy 
toboggan slide in the winter?” and Ray’s eyes 
followed curiously the long slanting roof that 
ran from the high peak of the two-story stone 
part of the house down to within a few feet of 
the ground. “All that a fellow would need 
to do would be just to pour a little water on it 
and let it freeze.” 

By this time the Boulderites had reached 



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A QUAINT OLD HOUSE 33 

the end of the low one-storied frame part of 
the house. Here there was a gate; and, pass- 
ing through it, they found themselves in front 
of the General Knox Headquarters House, a 
large two-storied stone building, with a dor- 
mer-windowed garret, a long low frame exten- 
sion, and a long broad porch, running nearly 
the full length of the eighty feet of the front 
of the house. 

Mrs. Rosewood, the kindly mistress of the 
old house, met them on the long low porch; 
and, in a few minutes, she had made each 
individual member of the Boulder Club feel 
that he or she was doing her a great honor in 
thus visiting her home. 

“Isn’t she lovely?” Ethel whispered to Con- 
stance; and, as her eyes rested on the sweet 
old face, where time and stress had left only 
the ennobling marks of faith and hope and 
love, she added awesomely: “Why, she her- 
self looks as if she might be one of those dear 
old Revolutionary ladies, just stepped out of 
a history book.” 

“Yes,” agreed Constance. “And what a 
fitting name for such a sweet, refined face. 


BURIED TREASURE 


34 

Rosewood, sweet-scented, beautiful, fine* 
grained rosewood.’’ 

“Now, that we are all acquainted, let us go 
in,” and Mrs. Rosewood, bowing and smiling, 
held open the door for the Boulderites to 
enter. 

“Why, what a funny door!” and William- 
ina, who was in the lead, stared curiously at 
the door. “It is cut in two in the middle, so 
that it makes two doors.” 

“And it has a knocker, a real old-fashioned 
iron knocker!” cried Constance. “I have 
often read of these old knockers, but this is 
the first time I ever saw one on a door and in 
actual use. Can we try it?” 

“Certainly,” smiled Mrs. Rosewood. 

Constance lifted the iron head of the 
knocker and let it fall against the door, with a 
clang that sounded throughout the house. 
Then each one of the Boulderites had to “ring 
the knocker,” as Ray called it, but all agreed 
that the modern doorbell was better and 
handier, “because it can be made to ring any- 
where in the house,” as Jennie explained. 

“But I can’t see why they cut the door in 


A QUAINT OLD HOUSE 35 

two?” queried the still puzzled Williamina. 

“O, that was just to keep the little kids from 
tumbling out,” Arthur volunteered, with the 
air of one who had made a special study of 
old doors. 

“Huh! A lot you know about it!” scoffed 
Ray. 

“I think it is time the lecture began,” smiled 
Mrs. Rosewood. 

“Sure,” and Ray turned impatiently to 
Aunt Betty. “Now, why did they cut a good 
door like that in two in the middle?” 

“That is what is called a Dutch door,” an- 
swered Aunt Betty. “The style was brought 
over from Holland, and nobody seems to know 
exactly what purpose it served, at least I do 
not,” she admitted frankly, unless, as Arthur 
suggested, it was to keep the little folks in and 
yet have the upper part of the door open Tor 
ventilation on hot days.” 

By this time all the Boulderites had 
crowded into the wide hall, which runs di- 
rectly through the middle of the main build- 
ing, and were glancing curiously and expect- 
antly around. 


BURIED TREASURE 


36 

“O, please show us the secret treasure- 
vault first!” and Arthur, in his excitement, 
caught hold of Aunt Betty’s arm. “I know 
everybody wants to see that first.” 

“Yes! yes!” echoed the others, catching 
some of Arthur’s excitement. “Take us to the 
secret treasure-vault. We want to see that 
first” 

“All right,” and Aunt Betty nodded and 
smiled to Mrs. Rosewood. “Let it be the 
secret treasure-vault next,” and, followed by 
the wondering and curious children, she led 
the way through a large room, then through 
a small low room into a long narrow room 
and then into the treasure-vault room itself. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE SECRET TREASURE-VAULT 

“Well, here we are,” "declared Aunt Betty, 
stopping near the middle of the room, where 
she was quickly surrounded by the girls and 
boys. “Here we are in the secret treasure- 
vault room itself.” 

“But, where is the secret treasure-vault? I 
can see no secret treasure-vault!” exclaimed 
Arthur, looking around the room disappoint- 
edly. 

“Huh! You didn’t expect to find a secret 
treasure-vault, with a door-knob and a key- 
hole to it, did you?” laughed Ray. “Of course 
it is hidden.” 

“Yes, it Is hidden,” smiled Aunt Betty, 
“and — and I think there is still some treasure 
in it. Now, let us see who can find it first. 
Ready, everybody look.” 

“O-o-o, a secret-treasure hunt!” and in a 
37 


BURIED TREASURE 


38 

moment more the excited children were rusE- 
ing about the room in every direction, exam- 
ining the walls and the floor and even the ceil- 
ing; but all in vain. The secret treasure-vault 
remained unfound. 

“O, dear me! I can never find it!” and 
Ruth looked up into the laughing face of 
Aunt Betty. “I’ll give up. Now show me,” 
and she eagerly caught hold of her arm. 

“No! No!” exclaimed Constance. “We 
don’t give up. Don’t show us. We will find 
it yet. We must use more brains. We’ve just 
been using our hands and feet.” 

“Here! Here!” suddenly shouted Ray, ex- 
citedly pounding the wall near the chimney 
with his fist. “The wall sounds hollow here!” 

Instantly all made a rush for Ray; and, in 
a moment, a dozen fists were pounding on the 
wall all around him, but without other results 
than aching knuckles. 

“I don’t believe it is in the wall at all,” de- 
clared Constance disgustedly. “Come, Ethel, 
let’s try the floor,” and both girls, getting down 
on their hands and knees, began examining 
every crack in the boards carefully and pound- 


THE SECRET TREASURE- VAULT 39 

ing on the floor with their fists and listening, 
as well as they could in that confusion of 
noises, for the suspicious hollow sound that 
might proclaim the finding of the hidden 
treasure-vault. 

The others promptly followed their exam- 
ple, and soon the floor was covered with crawl- 
ing boys and girls, all pounding the floor with 
their fists and listening anxiously, making such 
a funny sight that Mrs. Rosewood and Aunt 
Betty both laughed until the tears rolled down 
their cheeks. 

Suddenly Arthur gave a yell and began 
tearing frantically at a loose board. All in- 
stantly made a rush for him, all except Jerry, 
who at that moment was on his hands and 
knees in the corner near the door, along with 
Constance, Ethel and Williamina. The three 
girls, at the yell from Arthur, jumped to their 
feet and made a rush for him, not hearing the 
sharp creak beneath their own feet as they 
did so. But, just as Jerry sprang to his feet 
a moment after them, one end of a square of 
the floor suddenly gave way beneath him, and, 
with a yell that sent shivers of horror shooting 


. 4 ° 


BURIED TREASURE 


up and down every spinal column in the room, 
his body shot downward and disappeared in 
a black hole beneath the floor. 

For a brief moment all of the children stood 
stock-still, staring at the black hole in the floor, 
too frightened to move. Aunt Betty and Mrs. 
Rosewood, with exclamations of fear, hurried 
to the hole; but, just as they reached it, the 
red head of Jerry bobbed up above the floor, 
his face a little pale from his sudden fright, 
but his eyes sparkling with triumph. 

“Oi have found it!” he yelled. “Oi have 
found the treasure!” and he held up in both 
of his sturdy arms a round something, about 
the size and the shape of a large wooden pail. 

In an instant the hole and Jerry were sur- 
rounded by eleven as excited children as there 
were in America at that moment. 

“O-o-o, he has found a treasure-chest!” 
exclaimed Williamina. almost too excited to 
speak. 

“Quick! Let’s open it and see if there is 
any gold in it!” cried Arthur, reaching down 
eagerly for the round something in Jerry’s 
arms. 


THE SECRET TREASURE- VAULT 41 

“It’s ice-cream!” suddenly yelled Jennie, 
the first to really get her wits back. “Hurrah, 
it’s a pail of ice-cream!” 

And, sure enough, all now saw that the 
round something that Jerry was hugging 
so tightly in his arms was a small can of 
ice-cream tightly ice-packed in a wooden 
pail! 

“Well,” declared Ray, smiling up into the 
face of Mrs. Rosewood, “finding ice-cream is 
the next best thing to finding real treasure.” 

“Better,” corrected Constance, “because we 
can eat the ice-cream and we couldn’t eat the 
treasure. Besides the treasure wouldn’t have 
belonged to us children anyway.” 

“Oi shure did find thot secret treasure- 
vault,” grinned Jerry triumphantly. 

“That you did,” laughed Aunt Betty, reach- 
ing down for the pail of ice-cream, “or, rather, 
the secret treasure-vault found you. But, 
aren’t you hurt?” 

“No, no, only a bit of bump on my head,” 
and Jerry rubbed the back of his head with 
one of his fists, while he continued to grin 
triumphantly. 


42 


BURIED TREASURE 


Mrs. Rosewood now procured a candle and 
handed it to Aunt Betty. 

Aunt Betty lit the candle and, bending 
down, held the light so that it would il- 
luminate the interior of the secret treasure- 
vault. 

“You see,” she said, “it is large enough to 
conceal several men, and is supposed to have 
been made during Revolutionary times, to 
hide the valuables of the household or, pos- 
sibly, a man or two, in case of a sudden raid by 
the British soldiers. The cover is made of 
carefully matched boards and fitted so nicely 
into the floor that even after all these years 
your sharp eyes were unable to find it, until 
the supports on one side, having rotted a little, 
gave way under the combined weight of you 
four children and tumbled Jerry down into 
it, much to his astonishment.” 

“Well, it is a sure-enough treasure-vault!” 
declared Ray, with a sigh of satisfaction, as 
he bent over the hole and looked down. I 
don’t believe the British soldiers could have 
found it in a week, unless it played the same 
sort of a trick on them that it did on Jerry,” 


THE SECRET TREASURE-VAULT 43 

he added, grinning. “But we found it any- 
way.” 

“You certainly did, and now for the reward. 
The first dish of ice-cream goes to Jerry, be- 
cause he found the secret vault. You owe this 
treat and the ingenious idea of hiding the 
cream in the treasure-vault and having you 
hunt for it, to the kindly thoughtfulness of 
Mrs. Rosewood,” and Aunt Betty turned to 
that smiling lady. 

“Bully for Mrs. Rosewood!” cried the irre- 
pressible Ray. “She knows what kids like.” 

“I am sure, if you are all having as delight- 
ful a time as I am, then there is no ‘owing’ 
on either side,” answered Mrs. Rosewood, 
smiling and bowing to the circle of young 
faces. “Your coming has been like a fresh 
breeze, blowing from the fragrant fields of 
youth. Now, if Constance and Ethel will 
kindly give me a little assistance, we will 
divide our treasure, as all good treasure-find- 
ers should.” 

In a very few minutes the treasure was di- 
vided equitably and all were busy stowing it 
away in their own secret treasure-vaults. 


CHAPTER V 


THE MYSTERY OF THE BURIED TREASURE 

“Did you ever find any treasure hidden in 
the secret vault?” queried Arthur, pausing for 
a moment in his ice-cream eating and glancing 
toward Mrs. Rosewood. 

“No,” answered Mrs. Rosewood. “But,” 
and her face saddened, “a great-great-grand- 
father of mine, who was an officer in Wash- 
ington’s Army and who was living here at the 
time of the Revolutionary War, is supposed to 
have hidden a large sum of money in gold and 
silver coin either in or near the house, just be- 
fore he rode off to join his command. He 
was killed, shot dead on the field of battle, 
and the gold and the silver has never been 
found,” and Mrs. Rosewood sighed. 

“Have you looked for it?” cried Ray excit- 
edly. 


44 


BURIED TREASURE MYSTERY 45 

“Yes, yes, every succeeding generation has 
searched the house from top to bottom and 
the grounds for a mile around the house, but 
not a dollar of the treasure has ever been 
found; and I fear it never will be,” and a look 
of sad resignation, as if she were giving up a 
dearly cherished hope, for a moment clouded 
the serene face of Mrs. Rosewood. 

“But didn’t the officer, the one who hid the 
gold and the silver, tell any one where he hid 
it, or leave any paper, telling how to find it, 
like they always do in story books?” and 
Ray almost forgot his ice-cream in his in- 
terest. 

“Yes,” and Mrs. Rosewood smiled, at sight 
of the excited face of Ray. “In the bosom 
pocket of the dead officer was found a wallet, 
containing a torn piece of parchment, with 
words written on it purporting to describe 
the hiding-place of the treasure; but, so far, 
no one has been able to decipher it, although 
many of the shrewdest wits of the country 
have tried to do so.” 

“Can we — can we see it?” Ray’s eyes were 
sparkling and his face was flushing with ex- 


BURIED TREASURE 


, 46 

citement. “We — we might stumble on its 
meaning, you know.” 

For a moment Mrs. Rosewood did not an- 
swer, and her eyes saddened and seemed to be 
looking afar off. Then the look of resignation 
came back on her sweet face and she turned 
to Ray with a smile on her lips. 

“Yes,” she said. “I will show you the 
parchment. Perhaps,” and her kindly eyes 
lighted, “your younger and stronger eyes can 
see where our older and wiser eyes have been 
blind. Now, if you will excuse me for a few 
minutes, I will get the parchment,” and she 
hurried from the room, leaving a dozen 
greatly excited children behind her. 

“O, if we only could find that hidden 
treasure!” exclaimed Constance, the moment 
the door closed behind Mrs. Rosewood. 

“We might,” asserted Ray hopefully. 
“Anyway we can try, and, even if we do not 
find it, it will be the best kind of fun — a real 
treasure-hunt! But, isn’t it bully of Mrs. 
Rosewood to treat us like this?” and he 
glanced around at the now nearly emptied 
dishes of ice-cream. I wish we could find 


BURIED TREASURE MYSTERY 47 

that hidden treasure, just for her sake. She— 
she looked as if it might mean a lot to her. 
Is — is her husband dead?” and Ray turned 
inquiringly to Aunt Betty. 

“Yes,” she answered. “He has been dead 
for many years. All their children died 
young; and now Mrs. Rosewood is the last 
of her race. She told me, that, so far as she 
knew, she did not have a single blood relation 
alive anywhere in the world. The last of a 
goodly race, and one to whom our countrv 

owes much. She ” 

“Hush ! Here she comes !” cried Ethel, who 
sat near the door, warningly. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE TORN PARCHMENT 

Mrs. Rosewood, when she re-entered the 
room, held in her hands a small, pearl-inlaid 
and richly carved casket, made of a dark and 
highly polished wood and looking as if it 
might be hundreds of years old. She care- 
fully placed the casket down on the table, and 
then, taking a small key from a thin gold 
chain that hung around her neck, unlocked 
and opened it. An ancient fragrance, like the 
memories of long-withered flowers, faint, yet 
perceptible to all, came from the casket the 
moment the lid was lifted. 

“This,” and Mrs. Rosewood glanced at 
the circle of excited children, who had 
crowded close around the table, “was my 
great-great-grandmother’s jewel casket, where 
she kept her jewels and her private letters and 
48 


THE TORN PARCHMENT 49 

papers. The jewels, alas! are all gone, but a 
few of her letters still remain; and here, with 
them, is where we have always kept the mys- 
terious parchment found in the wallet of her 
dead husband, which, alas! she never saw, for 
the shock of the news of her husband’s death, 
coming at a critical point in her own illness, 
was so great that she died within the hour. 
Ours has ever been a tragic history,” and her 
old face saddened. “But,” and the smile came 
back on her lips, “it is the parchment you 
wish to see and not to hear the doleful histories 
of long-dead men and women. Here it is!” 
and she carefully lifted out of the casket a 
piece of folded parchment, yellowed with age 
and soiled and ragged-edged from much 
handling. “If you and the children fail to 
read the riddle, my last hope of ever finding 
the treasure of my fathers is gone. I long 
ago gave up trying to solve the meaning of 
the puzzling words myself and all others have 
failed,” and she handed the folded and yel- 
lowed bit of parchment to Aunt Betty. 

Aunt Betty took the parchment, carefully 
unfolded it, and, spreading it out on the table 


BURIED TREASURE 


5o 

before her, stared down at it, while all the 
Boulderites crowded around, anxious to get a 
sight of the mysterious words that con- 
cealed within them a treasure of gold and 
silver. 

This is what they saw, written in an old- 
fashioned script, but so plainly that all could 
read it with little difficulty: 

WHERE I HID THE TREASURE 


North — feet, east — feet, south — feet, 
east — feet — key — in — end of — of 
bridge, — flat rock. 


49 — 99 — 45 

6 feet und 

The parchment, which had originally been 
a sheet some seven inches wide, had been 
rudely rent across one side, so that all of the 
lower inscription, except the figures and the 
word, “feet,” and a part of another word had 
been lost. 

“The same bullet that killed my great-great- 


THE TORN PARCHMENT 51 

grandfather,” explained Mrs. Rosewood, 
“passed through the wallet and tore through 
the parchment, leaving it as you see it, and, 
I fear, rendering its solution impossible; for, 
evidently, the figures and the words in the 
lower inscription contained the key that would 
unlock the meaning of the cryptic words above 
and tell where the treasure had been hidden.” 

“You must be right,” agreed Aunt Betty 
after a few minutes’ study of the parchment, 
“for certain necessary words and figures ap- 
pear to have been purposely omitted from the 
upper inscription, without which it is utterly 
impossible to learn from it where the treasure 
was hidden. Yes, doubtless, the part of the 
parchment torn away by the fatal bullet con- 
tained the key; and, without it, its solution 
appears to be absolutely impossible,” and she 
turned a disappointed face to Mrs. Rosewood. 

“But,” broke in Ray, unable longer to hold 
his excitement in check, “we mustn’t give it up 
this easy. Why, we haven’t studied the parch- 
ment five minutes yet. The whole secret may 
be right in those words before us, for all we 
know.” 


52 BURIED TREASURE 

“Well, I surely hope you can find it there, 
Ray,” smiled Aunt Betty, “for I am compelled 
to agree with Mrs. Rosewood that the solution 
seems to be absolutely impossible without the 
missing words and figures.” 

“But the missing words and figures may be 
there,” persisted Ray. “They might have 
been written with ink you can’t see, until you 
do something like — like ” 

“Heating the paper!” broke in Constance 
excitedly. “Have you tried that?” and she 
turned a flushed face to Mrs. Rosewood. 

“My dear girl, we have tried everything!” 
and Mrs. Rosewood threw up both her hands. 
“Everything that could be thought of that 
offered the remotest possibility of a solution 
has been tried during the hundred and more 
years we have been hunting for the treasure. 
I myself took the parchment to one of the best 
chemists in New York City, but he failed to 
find a word or figure or ink-mark of any kind, 
other than what you can see now on the 
parchment.” 

“Hi, see here!” cried Arthur excitedly. “In 
the last two lines it reads : ‘Key in the end of 


THE TORN PARCHMENT 53 

— of bridge, flat rock.’ That sounds as if it 
might mean something.” 

“Yes,” smiled Mrs. Rosewood, “it really 
does sound as if it meant something, but, after 
a hundred and more years of turning over and 
digging under flat rocks and looking in the 
end of everything and anything that might be 
called a bridge, one is forced to believe that 
the phrase is meaningless, as it stands. I am 
afraid my ancestor’s gold and silver will have 
to remain where he hid it,” and she sighed 
softly. 

“Well, we might stumble upon it or some- 
thing,” declared Ray, “while we are exploring 
around. But I guess you must be right about 
this paper,” and he glared down at the parch- 
ment. “Nobody could find anything by such 
an inscription. Now let’s continue the ex- 
ploring. Possibly the ghost has the treasure,” 
and he grinned. 

“Yes, take us to the ghost-room and tell us 
about the ghost,” urged Jennie. “Ghosts and 
hidden treasure ought to go together.” 

“Very well,” acquiesced Aunt Betty, her 
face at once assuming a solemn expression. 


BURIED TREASURE 


54 

“But I must caution you before entering the 
room that there must be no loud talking or 
unseemly levity while in the ghost- room.” 

“O-o-o!” and Williamina caught hold of 
one arm, while Ruth seized the other. “There 
isn’t a really and truly ghost, is there?” 

“Pshaw! She is just trying to scare us,” 
scoffed Arthur. “Come on. Who’s afraid of 
ghosts? Ghosts don’t appear in the daytime 
anyhow.” 

“All right.” There was no smile on Aunt 
Betty’s face, as she spoke. “I did my full 
duty when I cautioned you. Ghosts are even 
more sensitive than human beings about hav- 
ing fun made of them, so I thought I ought 
to caution you. Now, we will go to the ghost- 
room,” and she led the way back to the hall 
in the stone building, stopping on the way to 
show the children the date, 1734, on the iron 
fire-back in one of the smaller , fireplaces, 
which was, probably, the date of the building 
of the house. 


CHAPTER VII 

THE GHOST-ROOM 

The hall in the main building is divided 
in the middle by a thick stone partition, with 
a door passing through it. Aunt Betty at 
once led her little party through this door 
into the other part of the hall; and stopped 
in front of the first door that she came to on 
her left. 

“This is the ghost-room,” she said, point- 
ing to the closed door, which bore the fol- 
lowing legend, inscribed in heavy black let- 
ters, surrounded by a black border, on a square 
of white cardboard, tacked to one of the upper 
panels of the door: 


55 


56 


BURIED TREASURE 


GHOST-ROOM 

This is the room haunted by the 

UNEASY SPIRIT OF THE UNFORTUNATE 

Kitty Wyndt, who vanished so mys- 
teriously FROM THIS LIFE DURING THE 
STORMY DAYS OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The room was her bedroom and the 

LAST TIME SHE WAS SEEN IN THE FLESH 
WAS WHEN, WITH LIGHTED CANDLE IN 
HER HAND, SHE BADE HER FRIENDS GOOD 
NIGHT AND, ENTERING THIS ROOM, 
CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND HER AND DIS- 
APPEARED FOREVER FROM HUMAN KEN. 


Slowly and solemnly Aunt Betty read aloud 
these words, and then placed her hand on the 
door-knob. 

“Now we will enter the ghost-room,” she 
said, and swung the door open and stepped 
within, followed closely, so closely that she 
had barely space in which to move, by all the 
Boulderites, who for once were so quiet that 
one could almost hear their hearts beating. 

One curtained window in the end of the 



THE GHOST-ROOM 57 

room opposite the door gave a dim chill light, 
and showed a fireplace and mantel, flanked by 
closet doors, on one side of the room and a 
bare white wall on the other. There was no 
furniture in the room, not even a chair, but a 
dull-covered carpet covered the floor. 

For a moment the children stared around 
the room in silence, even the glib tongues of 
Ray and Arthur were still, and all drew close 
to Aunt Betty. There was something in the 
feel of the room, in the dull light that came 
through the one curtained window, in a, per- 
haps fancied, chill dampness that seemed to 
hang in the air, that awed their young hearts; 
and yet they were not exactly frightened, only 
each had just a “shivery and creepy-crawly 
feeling,” as Williamina expressed it. 

“Now tell us the story of the ghost,” whis- 
pered Constance. “It feels d-d-delightfully 
ghostly and mysterious here, just right for a 
ghost story.” 

“Yes, as soon as we are all comfortably 
seated, I will tell you why and how this room 
came to be called the ghost-room,” replied 
Aunt Betty, dropping down Turk-fashion on 


BURIED TREASURE 


5S 

the floor, where she was instantly surrounded 
by all the children, the youngest sitting as 
close to her as they could, while Arthur al- 
most sat down on her feet, so that he could 
hear the story better, he said. 

“Is it true?” inquired Williamina, snug- 
gling up close to one arm of Aunt Betty, like 
a frightened chick under the mother-wing. 

“That you can tell better after you have 
heard the tale. Now, are all comfortable and 
ready for the story?” 

“Yes, yes, only don’t make it too scary,” 
whispered Jennie, getting firm hold of Aunt 
Betty’s other arm. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE PITIFUL TALE OF SWEET LITTLE KITTY 
WYNDT 

“First you must understand,” began Aunt 
Betty, “that considerably over a hundred years 
have passed since that sad and unfortunate 
night, when the door of this room closed so 
mysteriously and for the last time on the sweet 
face of little Kitty Wyndt, and that all of those 
who were then present and knew personally 
of this strange happening have been quiet in 
their graves for over a century, so that what 
you hear is but the legend handed down from 
the lips that once lived to the lips that now 
live, and cannot be credited with the accuracy 
of recorded history. But, even as the tale has 
been told to me, I will tell it to you, and, at 
its ending, you can form your own conclusions 
as to its truthfulness. 


59 


6o 


BURIED TREASURE 


“Kitty Wyndt was eighteen, fair and slender 
and graceful as the lilies that grew in her own 
garden, when she came to visit her good 
friends, the Ellisons, who built this old house 
and who lived in it during the troublesome 
days of the Revolution. Rumor said that she 
had a lover, an officer in the British army, 
and therefore unpleasing to her parents, who 
were loyal to their home and country at the 
price of loyalty to their king; and that it was 
to free her from this same lover that her good 
father and mother had sent her to visit the 
home of the Ellisons, then within the lines of 
the American army, which had gone into 
camp near Snake Hill, which was only a few 
miles away. 

“Now, whether rumor spoke true or not, I 
do not know; but for twelve days after Kitty 
came to the Ellisons there seemed no heart in 
her living. She wandered about the house 
and through the surrounding grounds, like one 
out of whom all hope of joy had gone; and 
very sad and tender and pensive was the look 
in her sweet blue eyes; and the bloom of the 
rose went from her cheeks and the flesh wasted 


TALE OF SWEET KITTY WYNDT 61 


from her bones. She faded like a flower 
thirsting in vain for water. Then, on the 
morning of the thirteenth day, she went for a 
walk down The Glen, with Caesar, a huge 
wolfhound, for her only companion. At noon 
she came back, with a flush in her cheeks, a 
sparkle in her eyes and a quick liveliness in 
her movements that caused all to marvel and 
to rejoice; for, thought the good folks, the 
homesickness is leaving her, she will soon be 
contented and happy again. All that after- 
noon she was oddly uneasy, as the women folks 
recalled afterward, starting suddenly into 
song, then as suddenly becoming quiet and 
pensive, not stopping long in one spot, but 
ever moving quickly about the house from one 
place to another, her cheeks sometimes flush- 
ing redly, then swiftly paling, until good 
mother Ellison thought that she must be com- 
ing down with a fever, and declared that she 
would brew her a strong herb tea, which 
would drive the fever from her blood. 
Whereat Mistress Kitty, laughing merrily, 
kissed her, and then burst into tears, much to 
the good woman’s astonishment. But, while 


62 


BURIED TREASURE 


her eyes were yet wet with the tears, she ran 
away laughing. 

“That night she was wildly merry In the 
house, until it became bedtime, when she be- 
came pensive; and, when she took her candle 
in her hand to go to her room, there was a 
frightened look in her face and eyes, as if she 
were about to do something at thought of 
which her heart trembled. Whereat mother 
Ellison laughingly said she would come and 
sleep with her, if the thunder and the light- 
ning affrighted her over much, for a thunder 
storm had come up suddenly and the thunder 
was now making a most awesome noise. But 
Kitty, again laughing, bade her guard her own 
fears, vowing that she was not afraid of the 
thunders of the good God; and, still laughing, 
yet still with the frightened look in her face 
and eyes, she kissed her and bade her good 
night at the bedroom door; and, with the 
lighted candle in her hand, entered the room 
and closed the door behind her. 

“That moment in the candle light, as she 
passed through the doorway into the bedroom, 
was the last moment that living eyes saw the 


TALE OF SWEET KITTY WYNDT 63 

slender form and sweet face of little Kitty 
Wyndt, in the flesh; for, when the door closed 
behind her that night, it had closed on her 
forever. 

“The next morning, when mother Ellison 
called her, there was no answer. When she 
knocked on the door, at first softly, then 
loudly, there came no reply. Then the good 
woman, becoming frightened, threw open the 
door, it was unlocked, and entered the room. 
Not a sign of sweet Kitty Wyndt was any- 
where. On a chair lay one of her handker- 
chiefs, a dainty bit of snowy white lace and 
linen. It was still damp with her tears and — 
cold. Her heavy hooded cloak was gone from 
the closet; but all her other belongings, save 
the clothing she had on the night before, were 
still in their accustomed places. But little 
Kitty Wyndt had vanished utterly, without 
leaving a sign behind her of how or whither 
or why she had gone; and never again was she 
seen by relative or friend or acquaintance; 
and, even to this day, the mystery of her dis- 
appearance is as great a mystery as it was that 
morning, when house and grounds and the sur- 


BURIED TREASURE 


rounding country were searched in vain for 
signs that might give some clue whither or 
how she had vanished. 

“Now, that is the story of the disappearance 
of little Kitty Wyndt; and the wonder and the 
mystery of it. But, whether she fled in safety 
to her British lover and lived long years of 
happiness with him; or, whether, in trying to 
flee with him, she met with some heart-rend- 
ing disaster, can never be known of a certainty 
— only, if her going brought her happiness, 
then why cannot her spirit rest in peace and 
why should it come back in its uneasy wan- 
derings to this room?” 

“And — and does it, does little Kitty Wyndt 
really come back to this room, to this very 
room where we are now?” and Jennie clutched 
yet more tightly the arm she was gripping 
and glanced fearfully around the room. 

“Go on — O, do go on!” urged Ray. “What 
happened next? Don’t keep us waiting. Tell 
us about the ghost.” 


CHAPTER IX 


THE GHOST 

“For just a year after the strange disappear- 
ance of Kitty Wyndt nothing extraordinary 
happened,” continued Aunt Betty, her voice 
lowering unconsciously; “and her sad and 
tragic going had become only a memory that 
was seldom recalled. Then, one night a guest, 
a stranger to the house and its history, was 
given this room in which to sleep; and, as he 
went into the room, a lighted candle in his 
hand, a great storm was raging without, with 
awesome noise of thunder and vivid flashes 
of lightning, even such a storm as had been 
raging on the night one year before, when 
Kitty Wyndt, with the fear of something in 
her eyes, had stepped into the room and closed 
the door behind her. 

“The guest had a letter to write; and, with 
65 


66 


BURIED TREASURE 


his mind busy forming his thoughts into 
words, he took paper and pen and ink from his 
portmanteau, drew up a chair to a small table, 
and, seating himself, began the writing of the 
letter. For a time nothing was heard in the 
room but the busy scratching of his quill pen 
and the sounds of the storm raging without, 
while the letter writing went on apace. 

“He had finished the letter and had folded 
and directed it and was about to lift the wax 
with which to seal it to the flame of the candle, 
when a sudden chill wind swept through the 
room, causing the candle flame to flare greatly 
and the guest to turn his head quickly, think- 
ing that the wind had blown open the door t 
Judge his amazement and dread when he saw, 
standing near the fireplace, the slender form 
of a young maiden, a lighted candle in one 
of her hands, and a heavy cloak flung over 
her shoulders, with its hood thrown back, 
showing a sweetly beautiful face, out of whose 
blue eyes looked a great fear. 

“For, he knew not how many minutes, the 
guest sat staring at this weird apparition, the 
wax held suspended near the flame of the 


THE GHOST 


67 

candle in his horror-stiffened hand and the 
blood running chilly through his veins; for 
there was that in the look of the sweet young 
face, in the blue eyes and in the chill that 
hung in the air, that told him he was looking 
on no mortal form of flesh and blood. He 
tried to speak, but could not. He tried to rise 
from his chair and run from the room, but 
his muscles were leaden and motionless, yet his 
eyes saw distinctly and his brain worked 
clearly. 

“For a time the apparition stood motionless, 
staring straight down into the fireplace, then 
the slender form stooped and the hand that 
held the candle placed it on the hearth and 
both hands began a frantic search among the 
smoke-blackened stones of the fire-bed. At 
last, with a heavy prolonged sigh, that seemed 
to have been drawn from the inmost depths 
of her heart, the figure slowly straightened up, 
and now, for the first time, the eyes looked 
straight into the eyes of the guest, who still 
sat frozen in his chair, with the wax still held 
suspended in his stiffened hand near the flame 
of the candle. As those two, steadfastly star- 


68 


BURIED TREASURE 


ing, blue eyes looked into his eyes, the lips 
began to move and the muscles of the throat 
to contort, as if the vocal cords were struggling 
to utter spoken words, and one white hand was 
lifted and the finger pointed toward the fire- 
place, but no words came from between those 
struggling lips. For a space the two stood 
thus, staring into each other’s eyes, then, sud- 
denly, the pointing hand dropped despair- 
ingly — 

“And, to his unutterable horror and as- 
tonishment, the guest sat staring at the empty 
fireplace 

“The moment he could move, he jumped up 
from his chair, and, white-faced and trem- 
bling, hurried from the room. Not wishing 
to arouse the house, he slept for the remainder 
of the night on a broad lounge in the 
parlor. 

“In the morning, after he had related his 
weird experience, he heard, for the first time, 
the story of the strange disappearance of little 
Kitty Wyndt, and was shown a picture of her, 
made a short time before the night she 
vanished. 


THE GHOST 


69 

" ‘The very girl I saw in my room last 
night!’ the guest declared, the moment his eyes 
rested on the picture, his face whitening. 

“Then it was also remembered that that 
night was the first anniversary of the night 
of her disappearance.” 

“Has the — has the ghost been seen since?” 
queried Ray in an awed whisper. 

“Yes, three times, so it is said,” answered 
Aunt Betty, “and each time on the anniversary 
night of Kitty Wyndt’s disappearance, but 
only when a violent storm was raging outside 
the house — a combination that does not often 
happen. It would seem that she can come 
back only, as she went, in the midst of the vio- 
lence of a storm and on the anniversary of 
her disappearance.” 

“And — and has she been back recently?” 
asked Constance, her face showing that she 
hardly knew whether or not to believe the 
story. 

“No,” Aunt Betty replied, not even smiling. 
“For nearly a hundred years the anniversary 
night of Kitty Wyndt’s disappearance has 
chanced to be pleasant, so that there is no 


70 BURIED TREASURE 

one now living who has actually seen the 
ghost.” 

“But, how could she get out of this room, 
without leaving some signs of her going? 
That’s what I should like to know,” and 
Arthur’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “You 
know lots of these old houses have secret pas- 
sages in them; and I’ll bet there is one going 
from this room to somewhere outside, and 
that that is the way Kitty went out to meet her 
British lover; and that this is where the treas- 
ure is hidden, and ■” 

“Stop! Stop!” and Aunt Betty raised her 
hand in simulated indignation. “You are 
stealing all my thunder; for there really is 
said to be a secret tunnel, running from the 
house down to Murderer’s Creek or to The 
Glen. At least that is the legend that has 
come down to this day; and some think that 
Kitty Wyndt and her lover somehow discov- 
ered this tunnel ; and that, while she was escap- 
ing through it with him, a part of the tunnel 
caved in and buried both alive; and that that 
is why her spirit haunts this room, to try to 
make this terrible disaster known to the living, 


THE GHOST 


7i 


so that their bodies can be recovered and given 
Christian burial. The fact that her British 
lover disappeared at the same time, never to 
be seen or heard of again, seems to give 
strength to this theory. But, on the other 
hand, although many have searched for this 
secret tunnel, no one has yet been able to find 
it. So, there you are,” and she shook her head 
doubtfully, as if the solving of the mysterious 
problem were altogether too much for her. 

“Well, I for one believe in the secret tun- 
nel,” declared Arthur emphatically; “and that 
it starts from this room; and, if we look, we 
might find it. Come, let’s try,” and he 
jumped to his feet. 

“O, if we only could !” exclaimed Constance, 
springing to her feet. “And if we should find 
the dead bodies of the two lovers 

“O, shut up!” cried Ethel, half laughing. 
“You give me the shivers. But, let us look 
anyway.” 

By this time Arthur, followed by all the 
excited children, stood in front of the old 
fireplace, now closed by a fireboard. 

“I’ll bet the opening to the secret tunnel is 


BURIED TREASURE 


72 

there somewhere,” he said, pointing to the 
fireplace, “because that’s where the ghost 
pointed. Can we take the fireboard out, so 
that we can look?” 

“Certainly,” answered Mrs. Rosewood, 
who, after returning the ancient casket to its 
proper place, had joined them in the ghost- 
room. “It lifts out quite easily.” 

In a moment more the eager hands of the 
boys had the fireboard out, and the old smoke- 
begrimed fireplace was before them, looking 
just as it must have appeared on the night that 
little Kitty Wyndt disappeared so mysteri- 
ously from this very room. 

Instantly Ray and Arthur were down on 
their knees, their heads in the fireplace and 
their hands excitedly pressing and pounding 
and pulling at the smoke-blackened stones of 
the fire-bed. 

Suddenly Arthur uttered a yell that made 
every one in the room jump; and, springing 
to his feet, he had his hand on the door-knob, 
even before the frightened girls could reach 
it. Here he got his wits back sufficiently to 
give a horrified glance toward the old fire- 


THE GHOST 


73 


place — only to see Ray grinning ecstatically at 
him and Aunt Betty struggling desperately 
to keep from laughing. 

“It was only a large patch of falling soot,” 
laughed Aunt Betty, getting control of her 
voice by a powerful effort, “as your black- 
ened cheek and neck show.” 

“Crickety! But I thought it was the ghost 
feeling for my throat, sure! It felt so cold — 
and — and clammylike,” and Arthur shivered. 
Then his face flushed with shame, as he real- 
ized what an amusing figure he must have cut, 
while fleeing so wildly from the clutch of a 
black patch of soot. 

“I don’t wonder it frightened you, coming 
so sudden and unexpected,” Aunt Betty 
soothed. “I am sure it would have frightened 
me. Now I think you had better let Mrs. 
Rosewood show you where you can wash. 
One side of your face and neck is nearly 
black.” 

“Yes, yes,” and Mrs. Rosewood hurried to 
Arthur, who began to look as if he were on 
the verge of crying. “Come right along with 
me. A little soap and water will soon make 


74 


BURIED TREASURE 


your face all right again,” and, throwing one 
arm around his shoulders, she hastened away 
with him. 

For some five minutes longer Ray and the 
others pounded and poked in and about the 
fireplace. Then they gave up the search in 
disgust; and Aunt Betty led them out into the 
hall to await the return of Mrs. Rosewood and 
Arthur. 

“But we can try again sometime, J can’t we?” 
Ray urged. “You know the entrance to the 
secret tunnel might be from some other part 
of the house. Besides, we might stumble on 
the hidden treasure, while we are looking. 
Say, but this is a great old house, isn’t it?” 

“Indeed and it is,” smiled Aunt Betty. 
“One of the most interesting of the old Revo- 
lutionary houses left in the country; and, of 
course, we will have another hunt for the se- 
cret tunnel and the hidden treasure. Per- 
haps, some day, we will go down The Glen 
and along the bank of Murderer’s Creek and 
have a hunt for the other end of the tunnel 
there. I think, if there is such a thing as a 
secret tunnel running from the house to MuiS 


THE GHOST 


75 


derer’s Creek or The Glen, our chances of 
finding it would be better there than in the 
house, which has been often searched from 
garret to cellar.” 


CHAPTER X 


THE ROOM OF THE SECRET PANELS 

WHEN Mrs. Rosewood and Arthur reap- 
peared a few minutes later, all marks of the 
soot had been removed from the boy’s face; 
but his cheeks were still red and it was a long 
time before he ventured to raise his eyes to 
the grinning faces of Ray and Constance and 
never again was he heard to express a desire 
to meet a ghost or to boast of how bravely he 
would act, should one appear. 

All eyes now turned expectantly to Aunt 
Betty, who at once stepped to the door directly 
across the hall from the door of the ghost- 
room. 

“This,” she said, as she placed her hand on 
the door-knob, “is the Room of the Secret 
Panels, which concealed small closets built in 
76 


ROOM OF THE SECRET PANELS 77 

the chimney above the fireplace,” and she 
pushed the door open and entered, followed 
by the children, who made a rush for the fire- 
place. 

“Well, I don’t see anything very secret 
about them,” Ray declared a bit indignantly, 
the moment his eyes rested on the hinged and 
key-holed doors of a couple of small closets 
built in the recesses of the chimney just above 
the mantel-shelf of the fireplace. “Anybody 
with half an eye could see that those were 
doors, with their keyholes and hinges.” 

“Yes,” admitted Aunt Betty. “But, sup- 
posing there were no keyholes or hinges to be 
seen, how then could you tell that they were 
doors? You will notice that the door-panels 
are exactly like the other panels; and no one 
would suspect that there were any doors there, 
if it were not for the hinges and keyholes 
showing. Well, those panel-doors are sup- 
posed once to have been held in place by 
strong springs, so arranged that by pressing on 
a certain spot, the springs would be released 
and the door could then be slid to one side 
sufficiently to allow entrance to the closet. 


BURIED TREASURE 


78 

The hinges and the keyholes are the innova- 
tions of a later day.” 

This explanation satisfied all ; and now each 
one of the boys and the girls had to stand on 
a chair, and thrust his or her hand into the 
closets, and feel around inside, and swing the 
doors shut, in the meantime, doubtless, pic- 
turing, in fancy, the jewels and other precious 
things that must have been hidden in these re- 
cesses in the long ago. 

“Well, it surely is an interesting old house,” 
declared Ethel with satisfaction, as she 
jumped down from the chair. “It almost 
makes me wish that I might have lived in 
those old days, when there were such things 
as secret treasure-vaults and secret panels and 
secret tunnels and buried treasure and other 
romantic things that we can now only read 
about in books.” 

“Yes, they are all right to talk about and 
dream about,” admitted practical Ray; “but I 
don’t think I’d care to have lived in those days. 
The house doesn’t look to me anywhere near 
as comfortable to live in as our New York 
flat; and I’d rather use gold and silver to buy 


ROOM OF THE SECRET PANELS 79 

things with, than to be obliged to secretly bury 
it in order to keep it from being stolen. But, 
of course,” he made haste to add, a bit apolo- 
getically, “it’s great fun now for us kids to 
hunt for secret treasure-vaults and secret tun- 
nels and secret panels and such things; and it 
will be great, if we can only find that treasure 
hidden by Mrs. Rosewood’s Revolutionary an- 
cestor; and — and ” Ray began to flounder. 

“Well,” he ended desperately, “I am glad I 
am living now and not then. Now show us 
something else,” and he turned to Aunt Betty. 

“Let’s have a look at the witches’ stairway. 
You haven’t showed us that yet,” begged 
Williamina. 

“All right,” responded Aunt Betty, and led 
the way upstairs. 

The witches’ stairway ran from the second 
floor to the garret. 

When Aunt Betty reached the door that 
opened on this stairway, r she stopped and, 
lighting the candle which Mrs. Rosewood had 
handed her, placed her hand on the door- 
knob. 

“In Germany,” she said, “the kind of a 


8o 


BURIED TREASURE 


stairway that I am about to show you is called 
the witches’ stairway, possibly because it is 
almost as straight as a ladder and yet is so 
made that one can walk up it without the help 
of the hands quite easily, after one has learned 
how,” she added, smiling. “Now, who wishes 
to be the first to try the witches’ stairway?” 
and she threw open the door and held up the 
candle, so that its light illuminated the narrow 
boxlike opening up which ran the curious 
stairs. 

All crowded forward, eager to get a sight 
of the stairs; but no one volunteered to be the 
first to mount to the dark garret. 

“Suppose you go first and show us how,” 
suggested Ray; “and then we will follow.” 

“All right,” agreed Aunt Betty. “Now no- 
tice the odd way the steps are made, wide at 
one end and coming to a point at the other. 
Indeed, each step is really a right-angled tri- 
angle of board, so placed on opposite sides of 
the stairway that the point of the acute angle 
reaches only to the middle of the stairway, 
with the long side of the triangle out. This 
enables one to go up the stairs easily, how- 


ROOM OF THE SECRET PANELS 81 

ever steep they are, by swinging the feet up- 
ward through the opening thus left in the 
middle of the stairway. Like this,” and she 
proceeded to illustrate the proper method of 
climbing these peculiar stairs; and soon stood 
in the garret above. 

The children followed. All mounted to the 
top in safety; but not without many shrill 
screams and much loud laughter. 

“Now, what next?” queried Mildred, when 
the curious old garret had been fully explored. 

“We will now go down to the parlor,” and 
Aunt Betty led the way down the witches’ 
stairway to the parlor below. 

“Be seated,” she said, when the parlor was 
reached, motioning toward the chairs and the 
sofa that encircled the room. 

The girls and boys quickly complied; and, 
when all their active little bodies had found 
seats, they turned their eager faces expectantly 
toward Aunt Betty. 

“We are ready,” suggested the impatient 
Jennie, the moment she saw Aunt Betty did 
not begin to talk at once. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE MAGIC POKER 

For a minute longer Aunt Betty stood near 
the old fireplace, with head bowed and with- 
out speaking a word, a dreamy look on her 
face, as if her thoughts were far away from 
the present, then she raised her head. 

“Now,” she said, and, bending down, she 
picked up an old iron poker that stood lean- 
ing against one side of the fireplace of the 
quaint old room, “let us imagine this.ancient 
iron rod, that, perchance, was used to poke the 
coals of this fireplace on the very night that 
Lucy Knox, the beautiful wife of General 
Knox, gave her great ball in honor of Wash- 
ington and his generals, and which, conse- 
quently, must know what then took place, is 
endowed with the magical qualities of dispel- 
ling the present and revivifying the past, when 
82 


THE MAGIC POKER 83 

swung slowly around the head three times; 
and that, through its magic, we can sit here, 
seeing but unseen, and witness the doings of 
the brave men and fair women, who gathered 
in this room on that long-gone-by night of the 
great ball, when the stately General Knox 
and his beautiful wife did the honors of host 
and hostess to our revered Washington and his 
generals. 

“See, I lift the poker above my head and 
swing it slowly around — once — twice — three 
times; and, behold! the present vanishes and 
the past becomes as the present; and we sit 
in the parlor of the Ellison House on the 
night of the great ball ; and we see the gallant 
officers and the beautiful ladies of that long 
ago moving before us; and we hear their 
laughter and their talk, as they come and go 
from the room. 

“There, right there, a little in front of the 
glowing fireplace, stands Washington. We 
instantly recognize that tall form and rug- 
gedly molded face. At his right hand stands 
General Knox, not as tall as Washington, but 
greater in bulk of body; and the stately lady, 


BURIED TREASURE 


84 

with the vivacious eyes and smiling lips, that 
we see standing by the side of General Knox, 
is his beautiful wife, Lucy. At the left of 
Washington are grouped a number of his of- 
ficers, with General Greene occupying the 
post of honor next to Washington. As we 
look we see the guests passing slowly in front 
of this little group, each pausing to clasp the 
hand of Washington and to greet the host and 
hostess and the officers. 

“See with what gracious dignity Washing- 
ton receives all ; and how willingly all pay him 
the homage of their confidence and admira- 
tion. How gallantly the men appear, dressed 
in all the glories of their regimentals, their 
light swords swinging by their sides! How 
courtly they bow to the ladies, as they greet 
them! And the ladies, how beautiful they 
look in the bright candle light, their natural 
charms rendered yet more fascinating by the 
bewitching costumes they wear! And how 
charmingly they receive the homage of the 
men, as they glide from place to place in the 
room, fragrant and beautiful as freshly 
plucked flowers! 


THE MAGIC POKER 85 

“But, now the reception of the honored 
guests has come to an end; and we see Wash- 
ington and his officers and General Knox and 
the fair Lucy mingling with their guests; and 
the talk grows more lively and the laughter 
merrier and more frequent; and, presently, 
there comes to our ears the soft strains of 
music; and we hear the cry: ‘Clear the rooms 
for the dance!’ and we see the men bowing 
before the ladies and beseeching the honor of 
the first dance with them. 

“How quickly the many swift hands push 
the chairs and the tables away from the cen- 
ters of the rooms! In a brief five minutes all* 
is ready for the dance to begin; and then all 
pause and we see all eyes turn to Washington 
and the many beautiful women who chance — 
but, is it chance? — to be standing near 
him. 

“Look, how flushes of red come and go in 
their cheeks, as they wait, some with eyes 
downcast modestly, and others, more bold, 
even venturing a challenging glance toward 
the face of Washington himself; for dear to 
the heart of each of these fair ones would be 


86 BURIED TREASURE 

the honor of opening the ball with Wash- 
ington. 

“Slowly Washington glances around the 
room, then we see his eyes light up, as, with a 
smile, he walks across the open space that had 
been formed in the center of the room to 
where pretty little Maria Colden stands blush- 
ing near the door. Now the couples form in 
line, with Washington and Maria Colden at 
the head, the doors are thrown open, and the 
grand promenade through the rooms of the 
house, with which the ball opens, begins. As 
Washington and Maria Colden pass through 
the door of the room, we see the General bend 
his head toward his beautiful partner, now 
more beautiful than ever with her flushing 
cheeks and sparkling eyes, and say something 
to her, but so low is his voice that we cannot 
catch his words, although we judge them to 
be something complimentary, because of the 
deeper flush that glows on the fair cheeks. 
Soon the promenade is over and the dance 
music is sounding. The parlor, where we sit, 
is not large and only a few couples can dance 
in it at a time; but, out in the wide hall and 


THE MAGIC POKER 87 

coming from the other rooms, we can hear the 
light patter of the dancing feet and catch 
glimpses of the moving forms. 

“Now the night grows late, for time passes 
swiftly in our magical vision; and we see that 
the lively feet are becoming weary. In the 
room where we sit only three couples are now 
dancing, the beautiful Maria Colden and a 
tall French officer, the daintily sweet Gitty 
Wynkoop and an American colonel, and the 
golden-haired little Sally Jansen and a tall 
captain of General Knox’s artillery. Around 
the walls of the room sit many watching them ; 
for these three girls are the belles of the even- 
ing and radiant with youth and beauty and 
happiness. But, presently the music ceases. 

“The dance is over. 

“ ‘Let us go to the window. I am hot with 
the dancing,’ says sweet Gitty Wynkoop. 

“ ‘Good,’ declares Maria Colden, blushing 
and laughing. ‘A lover’s moon shines in the 
sky. Let us sit by the window and watch it.’ 

“Now the three couples make their way 
laughingly to the deep west window; and we 
see them sitting there, the moonlight and the 


BURIED TREASURE 


candle light shining on their faces; and hear 
their low voices as they discourse of the pleas- 
ures of the ball and utter the many sweet trifles 
that come to the lips, when the heart is young 
and love is near. 

“ ‘Of a surety this has been a most delight- 
some night,’ we hear Maria Colden say, ‘A 
most delightsome and glorious night for me. 
Never did I dream of so great an honor being 
done poor me. O,’ and her flushing face and 
sparkling eyes tell how deeply she is affected, 
‘but isn’t Washington a wondrous man? I 
do not wonder there be some that think him 
almost more than mortal. Truly I could not 
have felt more awed had I been treading the 
measure with an archangel!’ 

“ ‘And truly I would not care to dance with 
an archangel, howsoever great the honor 
might be,’ laughs lively Gitty Wynkoop, with 
what we fancy a little touch of envy in her 
voice. ‘I would even prefer the colonel here,’ 
and she glances archly at her escort. 

“ ‘The night, indeed, has been one of great 
pleasure, of very great pleasure,’ and the eyes 
of the French officer glow warmly as they rest 


THE MAGIC POKER 89 

on the sweet face of his companion. ‘Already 
has its memory been written deep in my heart,’ 
and he bows low to the fair Maria. ‘But I 
would leave some souvenir of this delightful 
hour here, something that will tell to after- 
times that this room was graced by the pres- 
ence of these three most beautiful and win- 
some maidens. Ladies, allow me,’ and we 
see the courtly Frenchman arise to his feet 
and, bowing to each girl in turn, slip a dia- 
mond ring from his finger and step to the win- 
dow near which they were sitting. ‘Allow me 
to inscribe here, on this pane of glass, the 
names that this night has already cut deep in 
our hearts,’ and, pressing the sharp edge of the 
diamond to the glass, he slowly scratches the 
names of the three girls, Maria Colden, Gitty 
Wynkoop, and Sally Jansen, one beneath the 
other, sprawlingly on the small pane of glass, 
while the girls joke him merrily over the awk- 
wardness of his writing, their eyes in the 
meantime secretly admiring the diamond. 
And, even as he finishes the writing, Washing- 
ton enters the room, and our eyes turn quickly 
to him, as do the eyes of every one in the room; 


9 o 


BURIED TREASURE 


and we see him bowing his adieus to the ladies 
and saying good night to the men. A moment 
later we hear a servant announce that the 
horse of the General is at the door; and, with 
a final bow, Washington passes out of the room 
and out through the hall into the darkness of 
the night.” 

BANG! 

With a clatter that made every one in the 
room jump, the heavy iron poker dropped 
from Aunt Betty’s hand to the floor; and, with 
the falling of the poker, the vision vanished. 

“O dear! Why did you drop that poker?” 
sighed Williamina. “I could almost see dear 
Maria Colden and sweet Gitty Wynkoop and 
pretty Sally Jansen making their courtesies to 
Washington and turning to say something to 
their lovers, when that horrid bang came. 
Why didn’t you wait until I heard what it was 
that they said? I am sure it was something 
nice.” 

“But, did that French officer really write 
those names with his diamond ring on a pane 
of glass in a window of this room?” broke in 
Ray excitedly. “If he did, they might be 


THE MAGIC POKER 


9i 

there now. Come, let us look,” and he made 
a rush for the west window, followed by all 
the others; and soon a dozen pairs of sharp 
eyes were carefully scanning every one of the 
twenty-four window panes in their quaint old 
frames. 

“Crickety! Bully! Here they are!” sud- 
denly yelled Ray. “Just as — as we saw the 
Frenchman write them, standing in the moon- 
light and the candle light. Say,” and he 
turned a pair of astonished eyes to Aunt Betty, 
“just swing that old poker around your head 
again and show us some more.” 

“No, that fall broke its magic spell for- 
ever,” laughed Aunt Betty. “But, as you see, 
the names are there themselves to vouch for 
the truthfulness of the vision.” * 

Each one of the children now had to ex- 
amine the names on the pane of glass; and, 

* In 1848, Benson John Lossing, the historian, visited this 
old house and secured facsimiles of the three names, that still 
could be plainly read, as plainly as when cut in the pane of 
glass with the diamond ring of the French officer. The curi- 
ous will find the facsimiles reprinted in his Pictorial Field- 
Book of the Revolution. Now, however, the pane of glass 
containing the three names has been removed; and, conse- 
quently, those who visit the old house cannot see this curious 
and interesting souvenir of the night of Lucy Knox’s great 
ball. — Author. 


92 


BURIED TREASURE 


when this had been done to the evident won- 
der and satisfaction of all, they again turned 
expectant eyes to Aunt Betty, ready for the 
next venture. 

“Now,” and Aunt Betty smiled at the looks 
of eager expectancy on their faces, “I think 
there is nothing left for us to explore but the 
cellar, so we will go down there. I want to 
show you how solidly the foundation of the 
great chimney is laid,” and she led the way 
down into the old cellar. 


CHAPTER XII 


SIGNS OF TROUBLE 

“Why!” exclaimed Jennie, the moment 
they were in the cellar and her eyes had meas- 
ured the bigness of the great chimney’s foun- 
dation, “that is almost large enough to have 
a little house inside of it!” 

“Gee!” cried Ray, catching hold of Aunt 
Betty’s sleeve in his excitement. “Maybe that 
is where the treasure is hidden. I am sure it 
is plenty large enough. I wish we could 
knock a hole in it, just to see,” and his eyes 
rested longingly on the huge shaft of stone 
that disappeared mysteriously through the 
floor above their heads. 

“No, no,” laughed the Storyteller. “We 
will not begin our thanks to Mrs. Rosewood 
by knocking holes in her house. I am sure the 
Boulder Club can find a better way than that 
93 


94 


BURIED TREASURE 


of showing its appreciation of her kindness in 
thus having thrown open her home to it.” 

“You bet we can,” agreed Ray emphatic- 
ally, his face flushing just a little. “I didn’t 
really mean that we wanted to knock holes in 
your chimneys,” and he turned apologetically 
to Mrs. Rosewood. “Only the chimney is so 
big that there might be a secret chamber in it 
and, if we made a hole in it, we might find it,” 
and again his eyes turned longingly to the huge 
bulk of the chimney’s foundation. 

“Come, I see we will have to remove that 
boy from temptation, or he will soon be dig- 
ging into that chimney with his finger nails. 
I declare, how fast the time has gone!” and 
Aunt Betty glanced up from a look at her 
watch. “Do you know that it is after five 
o’clock? We must say our good-byes to Mrs. 
Rosewood and be going,” and she led the way 
out of the cellar and back on the long front 
porch of the house. 

“But, before we go,” and Constance, who 
had been holding a whispered conversation 
with a number of her fellow Boulderites, 
turned to Aunt Betty, “the Boulder Club 


SIGNS OF TROUBLE 


95 


wishes to thank Mrs. Rosewood for — for her 
kindness and courtesy in opening this dear old 
house to us. We have had a most delightful 
and interesting time here, have we not?” 

“Yes!” yelled every member of the Boulder 
Club. 

“And now,” continued Constance, “to show 
our further appreciation of her kindness, let 
us give the Boulder Yell in her honor. Every- 
body stand and face Mrs. Rosewood, please, 
and yell the last line this way: ‘Rosewood! 
Rosewood ! ! M rs. Rosewood HP” 

In a moment all the Boulderites were on 
their feet and facing Mrs. Rosewood, with 
mouths open ready for the yell. 

“Ready!” called Constance, gesticulating 
with her right hand like a choirmaster. “One 
—two— three— YELL!” 

“Hi! Yi! Ki! 

Biss! Boom! Bi! 

Who — are — we? 

Who — are — we? 

Can’t you see, O you dub? 

We are the Boulder Club! 

Rosewood! Rosewood!! Mrs. Rosewood!!!” 


BURIED TREASURE 


96 

yelled the combined voices of the Boulder 
Club, at the top of their combined lung- 
power, while Mrs. Rosewood stood flushing 
and bowing her delight at this noisy but thor- 
oughly girl-like and boy-like way of showing 
appreciation. 

After the yell all shook hands with Mrs. 
Rosewood, each thanking her individually for 
the good time he or she had had and for the 
ice-cream; and then, yelling their good-byes 
and waving their adieus as long as they were 
in sight of the house, they passed through the 
spacious yard, under the arch of the old stone 
gateway and out on the public highway. As 
they came out on the road, a red automobile, 
with three /nen in it, whirled by them and 
turned into the roadway running from the 
public road to the historic old house they had 
just left. 

“I wonder what Dean Alton, the New York 
lawyer, can be doing here,” and the eyes of 
Constance followed curiously after the red 
automobile. “That thin-faced, white-haired 
man, sitting in the back seat, I am sure was 
Dean Alton, a New York City lawyer, who 


SIGNS OF TROUBLE 


97 


lives right across the street from where we 
do. I have seen him hundreds of times and I 
would know him anywhere. There is usually 
trouble wherever he goes. I hope his coming 
here does not mean trouble for Mrs. Rose- 
wood.” 

Constance’s face clouded at the thought. 

“I fervently second your hope,” and Aunt 
Betty turned a troubled face to Constance. 
“But the man in the seat with your New York 
lawyer was a lawyer from Newburg; and, 
when two lawyers come together like that 
something is surely brewing. I do hope that 
their coming bodes no ill to Mrs. Rosewood, 
she has already had more than her share of 
this world’s troubles; but I am afraid that it 
does. I have heard that she is in financial 
difficulties, that there is even danger of her 
losing her home — her home and the home of 
her ancestors for so many years.” 

“What? Lose that dear old house!” and 
the quick tears gathered in Williamina’s eyes, 
while all the children crowded sympathetic- 
ally around Aunt Betty. 

“You don’t mean that there is danger of 


BURIED TREASURE 


98 

Mrs. Rosewood losing this place, where she 
has lived all her life and where her fathers 
have lived before her, do you?” questioned 
Constance anxiously. “Why, she is old. 
What could she do? Where could she go? 
She has no relatives living, you said ; and she 
must love this dear old place almost as much 
as life.” 

“Yes,” answered Aunt Betty sadly, “that is 
exactly what I mean. I would not have 
spoken to you of her money troubles, if they 
were not already common knowledge in the 
neighborhood. Mrs. Rosewood is one of the 
dearest old ladies that ever lived, but she is 
not a business woman, and she has mortgaged 
everything she owns — house, lands, even the 
furniture — for all that they are worth; and 
now the mortgages are due and foreclosure 
proceedings have been begun, so I am told. 
Doubtless the two lawyers have come to con- 
sult her on these very matters.” 

“What a shame!” exclaimed Ethel indig- 
nantly. “Why could they not wait until she 
had gone! She — she can’t live many years 
longer anyhow, and it would mean so much to 


SIGNS OF TROUBLE 


99 

her to spend the last years of her life in her 
old home.” 

“O, if we could only find that buried treas- 
ure for her!” cried Williamina. “If we only 
could!” 

“We may! We might! At least we must 
try,” declared Ray. “I wish she would let us 
dig a hole in the bottom of that big chimney. 
We might find the treasure there.” 

“I fear our hopes of finding the buried 
treasure are vain,” Aunt Betty said sadly, “un- 
less we can find the key that will unlock the 
mystery of the cryptic words written on the 
torn parchment.” 

“But the officer must have left a copy of 
the paper and the key with his wife,” inter- 
jected Constance excitedly; “so that if any- 
thing happened to him, she could secure the 
treasure; and we might find that. Now, 
wouldn’t it be great, if we only could find the 
treasure?” and Constance’s eyes sparkled. 
“Just like a story in a book; and Mrs. Rose- 
wood could live happily ever afterward.” 

“We surely must have a try,” declared Ray. 
“Do you suppose Mrs. Rosewood would let us 


IOO 


BURIED TREASURE 


look through the house, just to see if we could 
find any clue to where the treasure is buried?” 
and he turned eagerly to Aunt Betty. 

“I am sure she would,” she answered. “But 
there would be little use of our searching the 
house, it has been searched hundreds of times 
already. However, I will think the matter 
over carefully. In the meantime you can all 
be thinking about it, too; and, when we have 
our next Boulder Club meeting, we can com- 
pare notes and talk it over and decide whether 
or not it would be best to trouble Mrs. Rose- 
wood again. But, here we are at the parting 
of the ways,” and Aunt Betty halted at a fork 
in the road, where it divided into two roads. 
“Now,” and she glanced down at her watch, 
“you must all be hurrying home, or your moth- 
ers will begin to worry.” 

“And remember,” cautioned Constance, 
“that the Boulder Club is to meet day after 
to-morrow afternoon at one o’clock, prompt. 
Let every member be present.” 

“You bet we will be there!” declared Ray. 
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” 

“But I don’t see how the Thinkout Commit- 


SIGNS OF TROUBLE 


IOI 


tee is going to think out anything for us to do 
that will be as interesting as what we did this 
afternoon,” Williamina wondered. 

“ O , you don’t know our Adviser Extraor- 
dinary and Counselor Plenipotentiary!” and 
Mildred smiled mysteriously. “It’s going to 
be like a continued story. We only just got 
the interest started to-day. But, I must be 
hurrying home, or mother will scold. Good- 
bye to all who are not going my way,” and 
Mildred, with four of the other Boulderites, 
hurried off down one of the roads, while Aunt 
Betty and the rest of the club took the other 
road. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE MEN IN THE RED AUTOMOBILE 

Promptly at one o’clock on the afternoon 
of the day of the next meeting of the Boulder 
Club, Constance stepped on the flat top of the 
Great Council-Stone of the Dead Chiefs, 
where already the council-fire was burning. 
Instantly there was a rush of many feet; and 
the council-fire in the center of the great stone 
was quickly surrounded by a circle of bright- 
faced girls and boys, who at once threw back 
their heads and gave the yell of the Boulder 
Club. 

“There, I think that will tell everybody 
within ten miles that the Boulder Club is now 
in session,” and Constance smiled and called 
the club to order. 

The roll-call — not a member was absent — - 
and the minutes of the previous session were 
102 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE 103 

quickly read and approved. Evidently all 
were in a great hurry to get to the report of 
the Thinkout Committee; for there was a look 
of impatient expectancy, of suppressed excite- 
ment, on the face of each young Boulderite, as 
if he or she were expecting some special an- 
nouncement, or had some special announce- 
ment to make; consequently when Constance 
declared that, if there was no further business 
to come before the club, they would now lis- 
ten to the report of the^Thinkout Committee, 
all eyes were turned with unusual interest to 
Mildred, who, with a flushed face and spark- 
ling eyes, at once arose to her feet. 

“The Thinkout Committee,” she began, 
“has been very busy; or, rather, our Adviser 
Extraordinary and Counselor Plenipotentiary 
has been very busy, with the result that some 
discoveries have been made that will be of the 
greatest interest to all of us; and we have 
planned to do something that we hope will be 
of real help to Mrs. Rosewood, who is des- 
perately in need of help. Why,” and Mil- 
dred’s face and eyes glowed with indignation, 
“they are going to take the dear old home, 


io 4 BURIED TREASURE 

where she was born and has lived all her life, 
away from her and send her to a Home for 
Old Women! Send Mrs. Rosewood to a 
Home for Old Women! That’s what those 
lawyers in the red automobile called to tell 
her, that she must give up her old home ” 

“What a wicked shame!” broke in William- 
ina indignantly, as Mildred paused to catch 
her breath. “But, why does Mrs. Rosewood 
let them? Isn’t she in her own house? Why 
didn’t she set the dog on those two lawyers 
and chase them off the place?” 

“O, it’s all on account of a lot of money,” 
explained Mildred, “and a mortgage that’s 
going to be foreclosed or something; and the 
law is all on their side; and they can turn 
Mrs. Rosewood out of her own house and she 
can’t help herself. We’ve just got to help her, 
if we possibly can.” 

“But — but, what can we do?” protested Ar- 
thur. “We’re only kids; and what can kids 
like us do against a man like Dean Alton. 
Dad knows him; and he thinks him the mean- 
est and smartest lawyer in New York City.” 

“We can, at least, try to do something,” and 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE 105 

Mildred turned indignantly to Arthur. “And 
sometimes even kids can do things — that is, 
when they do not get cold feet too easily,” she 
added scornfully. “At least we are going to 
try to help Mrs. Rosewood; and Aunt Betty 
has thought out a way that promises some- 
thing. She has found out all about Mrs. Rose- 
wood’s money troubles. They are terrible; 
but I do not know enough about such things 
to explain them, and so I am going to ask her 
to tell you all about them and also to explain 
how she thinks we might be of help. Now, I 
yield the floor — stone, I mean,” and Mildred 
glanced down at the big rock on which she 
was standing, “to our Adviser Extraordinary 
and Counselor Plenipotentiary,” and she 
bowed to Aunt Betty and sat down. 

All eyes now turned with eager expectance 
to Aunt Betty, who at once arose, a look of 
anxiety and concern on her usually placid 
face. 

“Mildred,” she began, going at once to the 
heart of the matter, “has asked me to explain 
Mrs. Rosewood’s money troubles and to tell 
you how I think we can be of help to her. 


106 BURIED TREASURE 

You see, I am taking it for granted that each 
of you is a good friend of Mrs. Rosewood and 
will be willing to help her in any way pos- 
sible.” 

“Yes, yes !” chorused a dozen voices. “We’d 
do anything to help Mrs. Rosewood. Only 
tell us how.” 

“We’d be wretches, if we wouldn’t,” de- 
clared Constance emphatically. “Say, but I’d 
just like to tell that Dean Alton, or whoever 
is the cause of this trouble, what I think of 
him !” 

“Possibly you may have the opportunity,” 
conjectured Aunt Betty gravely. “But I know 
you are all anxious to get down to the facts; 
and so I will tell you, in as few words as pos- 
sible, just what we have found out and what 
we propose doing. I spent all day yesterday 
in Newburg, looking up the money part of 
the trouble; and I find that Mrs. Rosewood 
has mortgaged the house and other buildings 
and every acre of land she possesses for more 
than could be hoped to be realized at a forced 
sale; and that, in addition, she has placed a 
mortgage on all her furniture in a pathetic, 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE 107 

but vain, effort to raise money enough to keep 
her in the dear old home as long as she lives; 
and, finally, that she has reached the point 
where it is absolutely impossible for her to 
raise another cent on anything that she pos- 
sesses. I also discovered, and very much to 
my surprise, that all these mortgages are held 
by Dean Alton, that every cent that Mrs. 
Rosewood owes is owed to Dean Alton. It 
seems that he has long been wishing to secure 
the General Knox Headquarters House and 
estate for a country residence; but Mrs. Rose- 
wood has refused to sell, hoping to the last to 
keep the old home as long as she lives. So 
Dean Alton bought up all these outstanding 
mortgages; and bided his time. 

“Day before yesterday, the day we saw 
Dean Alton and the Newburg lawyer ride 
up to the home of Mrs. Rosewood in the red 
automobile, was the last day of grace that the 
law allows on these mortgages; and Dean Al- 
ton was promptly on hand to demand their 
immediate payment in full or the surrender 
of the property to satisfy the mortgages. 

“Mrs. Rosewood explained to him that she 


io8 


BURIED TREASURE 


had been unable to raise the money, although 
she had tried very hard to do so; and asked 
him to renew the mortgages for another year. 
I think Mrs. Rosewood had felt very confi- 
dent of securing this extension of time; and, 
consequently, when Dean Alton absolutely re- 
fused to renew them, even for another day, 
and coldly informed her that he would at 
once begin foreclosure proceedings, the shock 
— Mrs. Rosewood is seventy-eight years old 
and not very strong and you can imagine what 
it means to a woman of her refinement and 
her age to be told that she must give up her 
old home, especially when she has no other 
home, nor relatives, nor friends, only the in- 
stitutions of charity, to go to — the shock was 
like the stab of a knife through her old heart. 
She stood up very straight for a moment, her 
lips parted, as if she were about to speak; but, 
before a word came from between them, she 
crumpled up like a bit of old lace and sank 
white and senseless to the floor. In the con- 
fusion that followed Dean Alton and the New- 
burg lawyer hurried away; but, early the 
next morning, two men arrived, who took pos^ 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE 109 

session of the house and of all its belongings in 
the name of the law; and there they are to re- 
main on guard, to see that Mrs. Rosewood 
does not run off with any of the valuables, 
until the law has turned the property over to 
Dean Alton.” 

“And — and did Mrs. Rosewood di — die?” 
and Williamina turned a face wet with tears 
to Aunt Betty. 

“No, no. She soon recovered conscious- 
ness; but the shock left her too weak to stand; 
and she is now in bed, a very sick woman, 
whose only hope is to die before the old home 
can be taken from her. I spent an hour with 
her this morning. It was one of the saddest 
experiences I have ever known. She has no 
words of complaint, nor of bitterness, not even 
for Dean Alton. 

“ ‘He, doubtless, has done what to him 
seemed right/ was all the reference she made 
to him. ‘After all/ she added humbly, ‘why 
should I complain? God has been very good 
in permitting me to live in the dear old home 
for so many years. Yes, God has been good, 
very good; and He will not, I know He will 


no 


BURIED TREASURE 


not, desert me now in my old age and feeble- 
ness. He will take me home, home,’ and her 
sweet old face lighted up with a smile such as 
must gladden the faces of angels, when God 
speaks to them. I am sure she hopes to die 
before the law can take her home from her; 
and she will, I am afraid, unless something 
can be done to bring hope back to her. 

“The doctor, Doctor Mahan of Newburg, 
says that if he could write out a prescription 
that would guarantee her home to her as long 
as she lives, he would have her as well as ever 
in a week’s time. ‘But,’ and the good doctor 
shook his head dubiously, ‘when the only hope 
that is left is the hope of death, we doctors 
can do little. No medicine can cure a broken 
heart; and the thought of leaving her home 
has broken Mrs. Rosewood’s heart. That, 
my friend, is the true diagnosis of the case,’ 
and he turned abruptly away from me.” 

“I’d like to smash that Dean Alton one in 
the face !” and Ray’s doubled-up fist gave em- 
phasis to his words. 

“Smashing would be too good for him,” 
disagreed Arthur. “He ought to be drawn 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE iii 


and quartered and hanged and electrocuted; 
and then put into a dark dungeon and fed on 
bread and water for the rest of his life.” 

“But, how can we help Mrs. Rosewood? 
O, we must do something to help her!” and 
Williamina turned her tear-wet eyes plead- 
ingly to Aunt Betty. “You said you thought 
we might be of help to her. Hurry and tell 
us how.” 

“Have you — have you discovered a clue to 
the lost treasure?” broke in Ethel, her eyes 
shining. “O, if we only could find that!” 

“No, unfortunately, no,” Aunt Betty an- 
swered. “We have discovered no clue; and 
I do not see how we possibly can find the treas- 
ure, until we find the key to the writing on 
the parchment and that seems to have been 
lost beyond recovery; but I have not yet given 
up all hopes in that direction; and, if we fail 
in what we have planned to do to-day and to- 
morrow, we will have another look at the torn 
bit of parchment and Mrs. Rosewood’s great- 
great-grandmother’s jewel casket. I do not 
know why, but I feel as if we, the Boulder 
Club, were, somehow, going to be of help to 


1 1 2 


BURIED TREASURE 


Mrs. Rosewood. Possibly it is because we 
wish so sincerely to be of help; and that the 
wish is father to the thought. Anyhow, it 
helps a lot in doing things, just to wish to do 
them with all one’s might and main; and, well, 
if we wish hard enough and try hard enough, 
I am sure we can help.” 

“O, but we do wish to help ! And we will 
try! Only show us how. It would be just too 
terrible to have Mrs. Rosewood turned out of 
her dear old home,” and Williamina’s voice 
choked. 

“Yes, hurry and tell us something to do. 
We’ve been fussing long enough. Now let’s 
do something,” and Arthur turned impa- 
tiently to Aunt Betty. 

“That,” and Aunt Betty turned with a smile 
to Arthur, “would make a splendid motto for 
our club, ‘DO SOMETHING.’ But, I know 
you are all anxious to know what our plans 
are. We, the Thinkout Committee and I, 
think that, if we send a committee of say three 
of our members to New York City to see Dean 
Alton and explain to him just how Mrs. Rose- 
wood feels about leaving her old home and 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE 113 

how the very thought of her going has already 
made her sick and how the doctor says that her 
life is so bound up in her old home that sepa- 
ration from it probably would mean her 
speedy death, we think that, possibly, when 
Dean Alton understands all this, he will be 
willing to arrange matters so that Mrs. Rose- 
wood can keep her old home as long as she 
lives, which, at the most, can be but a few 
years longer. I do not see how man born of 
woman, under the circumstances, could do 
otherwise. Therefore, I suggest that a com- 
mittee of three be appointed to go to New 
York City to-morrow to see Dean Alton in 
behalf of Mrs. Rosewood. ,, 

“Good!” and Ethel jumped to her feet. “I 
move that such a committee be appointed.” 

“Second the motion!” cried Jennie. 

Constance quickly stated the motion and 
paused for remarks. 

“I don’t believe you could reach the heart 
of that old skinflint with a ten-mile automatic 
double-barreled diamond drill,” declared Ar- 
thur cynically. “But anything is worth try- 
ing; and so I am in favor of the motion.” 


1 1 4 BURIED TREASURE 

There being no further remarks, Constance 
put the motion and it was carried unani- 
mously. 

“Now, who will we have on this commit- 
tee?” she asked. 

“Aunt Betty for one,” urged Jennie. “We 
want her on it.” 

“Of course,” explained Aunt Betty, “I will 
go to the city with this committee in my offi- 
cial capacity as Adviser Extraordinary and 
Counselor Plenipotentiary; but I should not 
be one of the regular committee. That should 
be made up from you young Boulderites.” 

“I think Constance should be one,” declared 
Ray, “because she has lots of nerve and isn’t 
afraid to talk right up to a man. You ought 
to have heard her give the hired man a jawing 
the other day for striking her pony with his 
whip. Gee, but she was hot! I’ll bet that 
hired man don’t hit her horse again,” and Ray 
grinned. “I’d like to hear her giving old 
Dean Alton a piece of her mind. I tell you 
the chunks are hot, when they come out. Yes, 
we want Constance on that committee. It will 
take lots of nerve to face Dean Alton.” 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE 115 

“And I think Ray should be on that com- 
mittee,” and Constance’s cheeks flushed, “be- 
cause, if it is nerve that is needed, then Ray 
certainly should go. He has the most nerve 
of any boy I know. Why, I didn’t say scarcely 
anything to that hired man — that is, anything 
in comparison to what he deserved. He hit 
Beauty so hard a blow with his whip that it 
raised a big welt on her; and what girl could 
stand by and see her pony abused that way and 
keep silent, I’d like to know?” 

“O, I guess he deserved all that he got,” 
Ray grinned back. “And, if you will give 
Dean Alton all that he deserves, you ought to 
be awarded a gold medal. That’s why I’d 
like to see you on this committee.” 

“I think Constance and Ray are all right,” 
assented Ethel, “for the — the nervy part of 
the committee. Now we want someone who 
can look teary and appealing-like; and I think 
Williamina, with her big dark eyes, that fill 
so easily with tears, is just the one. She can 
touch Dean Alton’s heart, if any one can.” 

“Good!” declared Aunt Betty. “Constance 
and Ray and Williamina will make a splen- 


n6 


BURIED TREASURE 


did committee. Miss President,” and she 
turned to Constance, “I move that Constance 
and Ray and Williamina be the members of 
this committee.” 

The motion was quickly seconded and unan- 
imously carried. 

“We will go on the early morning train,” 
advised Aunt Betty, “so there must be no over- 
sleeping by the committee.” 

“Now that that is settled, what are we go- 
ing to do this afternoon?” and Arthur turned 
an eager face to Aunt Betty. “You said some- 
thing about having something planned out for 
this afternoon that might be of help to Mrs. 
Rosewood.” 

“Yes,” replied Aunt Betty, “we have 
planned something to do this afternoon; but I 
fear it will not be very successful. We 
thought there might be a possibility of our 
finding the entrance to the secret tunnel, run- 
ning from the old house to Murderer’s Creek, 
if there is such a tunnel, by searching along the 
banks of the creek, although, to tell the truth, 
I have not much faith in that secret tunnel 
legend. But, as Arthur says, anything is 


THE RED AUTOMOBILE 117 

worth trying; and, if there is such a tunnel, 
like as not that is the place where the treasure 
is hidden.” 

“O, but wouldn’t it be great, if we should 
find the tunnel, with the treasure in it!” and 
Williamina’s eyes shone with excitement 
“And wouldn’t it make Mrs. Rosewood 
happy! Come, let us start at once.” 

“I move that we adjourn and begin the hunt 
for the secret tunnel,” Arthur cried. “It will 
be great fun, even if we don’t find it; and, if 
we should find it! Great Smoke!” and the 
look on Arthur’s face finished the sentence 
more expressively than words could possibly 
have done. 

Two minutes later the Boulder Club had 
adjourned until the next meeting-day; and its 
members were hurrying on their way to begin 
the search along the shores of Murderer’s 
Creek for the entrance to the secret tunnel. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE RIVAL MASCOTS 

“We will go down the Forge Hill Road to 
the bridge,” said Aunt Betty, as she and her 
little party passed out of the Field of the 
Great Stones and onto the public highway; 
“and, from the bridge, we will go up Mur- 
derer’s Creek to The Glen, searching very 
carefully as we go along the bank for the 
entrance to the secret tunnel. If there is any 
such a tunnel, its opening must be somewhere 
between the bridge and The Glen.” 

“Well, I think it is true and I hope we find 
it,” asserted Arthur stoutly. “If there was no 
secret tunnel, how was it that Kitty Wyndt 
vanished so mysteriously and was never 
found? That’s what I’d like to know. 
Healthy girls don’t disappear in thin air, like 
smoke.” 


118 


THE RIVAL MASCOTS 119 

“And — and we might find the skeleton of 
Kitty Wyndt and her British lover locked in 
each other’s arms,” and Jennie shuddered and 
drew closer to Aunt Betty. 

“Ah, cut it out!” and Ray turned impa- 
tiently to Jennie. “We are not on the hunt 
for hugging skeletons. What we want is to 
find the hidden treasure, so we can help Mrs. 
Rosewood; and ” 

“Here we are at the Forge Hill Road,” 
interrupted Aunt Betty, as the little company 
came to the junction of two roads. “It is only 
a short walk along a very beautiful road to 
the bridge from here.” 

“But, why do they call it the Forge Hill 
Road?” queried Ethel. “I don’t see what a 
forge has to do with a hill or a road.” 

“Its name, as many names do here, goes 
back to things Revolutionary. It is called 
the Forge Hill Road, because it goes over 
a hill and passes the site of a famous forge 
of Revolutionary days, where the great links 
that made up the great iron chain that was 
stretched across the Hudson River to stop the 
British ships, were forged. You can still see 


120 


BURIED TREASURE 


a few of the old and rusted links of the giant 
chain in the grounds of the Washington 
Headquarters House at Newburg. We’ll 
have a look at the site of the forge before be- 
ginning our search for the secret tunnel. It 
is only a few rods from the bridge.” 

“And there’s the bridge now,” cried Ray, as 
the road made a slight turn and brought into 
view a modern iron bridge, spanning the 
hurrying waters of Murderer’s Creek. 

In a few minutes the little company had 
crossed the bridge and stood before a huge 
block of stone that marked the site of the old 
forge. 

“Well, it couldn’t have been much of a 
forge,” Arthur declared disgustedly, as he 
looked around the barren spot that showed 
scarcely a vestige of its former occupancy. 
“Why, there isn’t a sign of it left, not so much 
as a pile of crumbling stones, only a stone 
monument.” 

“O, but look over there!” cried Williamina, 
excitedly pointing a little way up and across 
the road to where the ruins of an old house 
showed, half-hidden by ingrowing trees and 



OH, BUT LOOK OVER THERE!” CRIED WILLIAMINA. “THERE ARE THE RUINS OF SOMETHING. 











THE RIVAL MASCOTS 


121 


bushes. “There are the ruins of something! 
Maybe it is the forge. See the big chimney, 
now partly tumbled down, and the tumblety- 
down old house. Come, let’s see what it is,” 
and she started off on the run toward the ruins, 
followed by all the other Boulderites. 

In a short time all the children were poking 
around excitedly amongst the fallen timbers 
and boards and stones and plaster of the ruins 
and wondering audibly who could have lived 
there and why the house had been deserted 
and allowed to tumble to pieces. 

“My, but if these old walls could only talk, 
couldn’t they tell us some interesting stories 
about the past!” and Constance paused and 
looked musingly around. “Think of all the 
people who must have been born and lived 
and died here; and now not one of them is 
alive and the house that sheltered them has 
fallen to pieces; and ” 

“O, just see what I have found!” broke in 
Williamina, who had been poking about with 
a stick in the rubbish that covered the rotting 
floors, as she suddenly bent and picked up the 
china head of a doll, with a small hole broken 


122 


BURIED TREASURE 


in the back of the head, but with the face, 
except for the dirt and a slight fading in the 
coloring of the cheeks and lips, as perfect as 
the day it first delighted the heart of its little 
mother. “I found it in a hole under an old 
board that looked as if it had not been moved 
for a hundred years. Hasn’t it a sweet face?” 
and she began tenderly and carefully wiping 
off the dirt with her handkerchief. 

In a moment she was surrounded by all the 
girls. 

“What a little beauty she must have been!” 
exclaimed Ruth, her eyes fixed in loving ad- 
miration on the smiling china face. “Do let 
me hold her,” she pleaded, reaching out both 
hands. 

But Williamina would not relinquish her 
treasure just yet; and, pressing a kiss on the 
still smiling lips, snuggled the head up close 
to her bosom. 

“And to think that, probably, the little girl 
who was mother to this doll has long since 
grown up, lived her life and died long before 
we were born, while the pretty doll head still 
smiles its china smile,” and Constance’s eyes 


THE RIVAL MASCOTS 123 

fixed themselves pensively on the head snug- 
gled up in Williamina’s arms. 

" ‘Still smiles her china smile!’ How sad!” 
grinned Ray, rubbing his eyes with both fists. 
“Lend me your handkerchief, Con, I feel like 
overflowing.” 

“O, shut up! You are nothing but a boy!” 
retorted Constance, as all the girls turned in- 
dignantly on Ray. 

“You don’t know how girls feel about 
dolls,” protested Williamina; and real tears 
gathered in her eyes and she hugged the doll 
head closer to her than ever. 

“What a fuss to make over a dirty, broken, 
doll head that wasn’t worth picking up in the 
first place,” and Arthur turned disgustedly to 
Aunt Betty. “Come, let’s get away from this 
old house, before we find any more silly girl 
truck. We are out to look for a secret tunnel, 
not for broken doll heads. Throw the dirty 
old doll away and forget it,” and Arthur 
turned impatiently to Williamina. 

“I will not,” retorted Williamina indig- 
nantly. “I will keep the dear little head as 
long as I live,” 


BURIED TREASURE 


124 

“ And the doll head is really worth keep- 
ing,” approved Aunt Betty. “The head must 
be over a hundred years old; and, if you will 
fit a body to it and dress it up in Colonial style, 
you will have a real Colonial doll, something 
that very few little girls have. But, Arthur is 
right. It is time we were on our way. Wrap 
up the doll head carefully, Williamina, for 
there is no road up Murderer’s Creek and we 
will have to make our way as best we can over 
stones and through brush and it would be too 
bad if anything should happen to that doll 
head, now that it has found a little mother 
after being an orphan for so many years.” 

One of the girls wore a light shawl; and 
Williamina wrapped her treasure safely in 
this shawl. 

“I — I feel as if the finding of this doll head 
was going to bring us luck,” she said, as she 
pressed the bundle close to her bosom. 

“O, let’s make the doll head our mascot!” 
cried Jennie delightedly. “It does seem queer 
that we should find that doll head after all 
these years; and, maybe, it will bring us good 
luck” 


THE RIVAL MASCOTS 125 

“Splendid !” agreed Constance. “And Will- 
iamina shall be the Custodian of the Mascot, 
because she found it; and she must bring it 
with her to every club meeting; and ” 

“I’d sooner have a one-horned goat than a 
broken old doll head for a mascot!” inter- 
jected Arthur disgustedly. 

“Or the left hind leg of a one-eared rabbit, 
cut off with a dull knife, under a full moon, 
shining over the left shoulder,” grinned Ray. 
“But,” he added magnanimously, “let the girls 
have the doll head for their mascot, if they 
want it. Mascots don’t amount to shucks any- 
way, besides we boys can get a mascot of our 
own.” 

“Bully idea! We boys will have our own 
mascot; and then we’ll see which mascot 
brings the club the best luck. Now, what 
shall ours be?” and Arthur looked searchingly 
about the ruins. 

“Begorra, I’ve got him!” suddenly yelled 
Jerry, exultingly making a dive for a corner 
of the ruins, just as a half-grown, coal-black 
kitten poked its little nose out from between 
two boards, behind which it had evidently 


126 


BURIED TREASURE 


been taking its after-dinner nap. “There’s our 
mascot! The darlint!” and Jerry’s fingers 
held up triumphantly the startled kitten. 

“Gee, what luck!” shouted Ray. “A black 
cat! Couldn’t have been better, if we had had 
a mascot made to order. Hurrah for Jerry! 
He shall be the Guardian of the Black Cat, 
our mascot!” 

The boys now all crowded around Jerry 
and the black kitten; and even the girls cast 
many curious glances in the direction of the 
black cat; but they remained loyal to their 
mascot and refused to touch the black kitten, 
for, as Jennie said, “it might break our luck,” 
and they were not going to run any such 
chances. 

“Now we’ll see who has the best mascot,” 
Arthur boasted, turning triumphantly to the 
girls. “Ours is alive, and it’s black, and it’s a 
cat,” he ended exultingly. 

“Pshaw, who ever heard of a black cat 
bringing anybody luck?” scoffed Constance. 
“Anyway we girls are satisfied with our mas- 
cot; and, of course, if you boys are satisfied 
with a black cat for your mascot, that’s your 


THE RIVAL MASCOTS 


127 

business, not ours, only it’s nice to have both 
sides satisfied.” 

“O, we boys are satisfied all right,” asserted 
Ray confidently. “Now for the hunt! If a 
black cat and a hundred-year-old-broken- 
china doll head won’t bring us luck, then I 
don’t know what will. Come, let’s be off. 
We’ve fussed here long enough,” and he 
turned impatiently to Aunt Betty. 

“Yes, now that we have two such mascots, 
we certainly ought to corner about all the luck 
this side of the Hudson River. Come on. We 
will put them to the test,” and Aunt Betty 
started off down the road toward the bridge, 
followed by all the others, Williamina hug- 
ging her wrapped-up doll head close and shyly 
casting envious glances at the little black kitten 
in Jerry’s arms; and Jerry, flanked on each 
side by Ray and Arthur, proudly carried the 
kitten. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE HUNT FOR THE SECRET TUNNEL 

DOWN the road and across the bridge hur- 
ried the children, each one eager to begin the 
hunt for the lost tunnel. 

“Now we must keep our eyes peeled for 
signs of the opening,” Arthur advised preten- 
tiously, as all scrambled down the steep bank 
to the shore of Murderer’s Creek,” because it 
is quite sure to be hidden by overgrowing 
bushes or huge rocks. Why, it might even 
have a door of rock, that would swing open 
only when touched at a certain point. I’ve 
read a lot about hidden tunnels and such 
things.” 

“Thank you,” commented Constance sar- 
castically, interrupting before Arthur could 
get a fresh start. “It was awfully kind of you 
to give us all that information; and I am sure 
128 


HUNT FOR SECRET TUNNEL 129 

you feel better now and need a rest, so give 
someone else a chance to say something. Aunt 
Betty looks as if she might have something 
interesting to tell us. Out with it, please,” and 
Constance turned a smiling face to Aunt Betty. 

“Well,” laughed Aunt Betty, “if my counsel 
is to share the fate of Arthur’s, I think I had 
better keep still.” 

“O, you are different,” returned Constance 
quickly. “You are old enough to know some- 
thing — I — I — mean ” 

“Thank you,” interrupted Aunt Betty, her 
eyes twinkling at Constance’s confusion. “I’ll 
take the privilege of age, then, and suggest 
that it would be a good plan to spread out 
up and down the bank, so that we can search 
the entire bank thoroughly as we move up the 
creek; and, as Arthur suggested, we must keep 
our eyes ‘peeled,’ if we are to find the entrance 
to the secret tunnel, which now might be al- 
most completely filled up. You boys take the 
steepest and roughest part of the bank and 
keep just far enough apart to make a thorough 
search. Be sure and investigate every hole 
and depression you find; and shout out, if you 


BURIED TREASURE 


130 

discover anything promising. Now, every- 
body get into position.” 

‘Til take the top part of the bank,” cried 
Ray, as he started to scramble up the steep 
side. 

“Next!” shouted Arthur, hurrying after 
him. 

In a few minutes all the children had spread 
out, at regular intervals, up and down the 
bank. 

Everybody in position and ready?” called 
Aunt Betty. 

“Yes!” shouted back a dozen excited voices. 

“Advance, then, Searchers for the Secret 
Tunnel!” she cried and immediately started 
up the stream. 

For a few minutes nothing was heard but 
the snapping of twigs, the crunching of feet 
and smothered exclamations, as the children 
made their way slowly and not without diffi- 
culty along the steep tree- and brush-over- 
grown shores of Murderer’s Creek. All were 
too busy searching to do any talking; and each 
was secretly indulging the hope that he or she 
would be the lucky one selected by a kindly 


HUNT FOR SECRET TUNNEL 1 131 

fate to find the long-lost tunnel; and this hope 
was enough to stimulate to the utmost every 
muscle and faculty of their active young 
bodies. 

Possibly for ten minutes the children ad- 
vanced up the creek in this silent, cautious 
manner, then, suddenly, Arthur gave a shout 
that caused all to jump and sent delightful 
thrills of expectancy tingling through their 
nerves. And the next moment all were in a 
mad scramble up the bank to reach the side of 
Arthur and see what it was that he had dis- 
covered. 

“O, have you found it? Have you found 
it?” Williamina panted, her eyes big and 
round with excitement, as she reached the spot 
where Arthur, already surrounded by excited 
girls and boys, stood dramatically pointing to 
a hollow cavelike depression in the bank, al- 
most completely hidden by overgrowing 
bushes. 

“Looks like it,” Arthur replied, his voice 
trembling with excitement. “But I do not be- 
lieve I would have found it, if my foot had 
not tripped on a root and pitched me head- 


BURIED TREASURE 


132 

first into the bushes. When I scrambled up 
on my hands and knees, I found myself star- 
ing straight into that hole.” 

“Well, well, let’s see what all this excite- 
ment means,” and Aunt Betty gently pushed 
her way through the circle of agitated girls 
and boys, with something like a flush of excite- 
ment on her own face. 

“Arthur has found the secret tunnel! The 
secret tunnel!” and, in her excitement, Jennie 
caught hold of her arm and began to dance 
up and down. “Look there! See, there it is!” 
and she pointed to the cavelike depression. 

Aunt Betty quickly freed herself from 
the excited Jennie; and, hurriedly pushing 
through the bushes, made her way to the de- 
pression. 

The hole was oval in form, some four feet 
by three feet in diameter, and looked much 
deeper through the fringe of bushes than it 
really was. 

For a moment Aunt Betty stood in front of 
the depression, staring down into it. Then she 
took a long stick and jabbed it about inside 
the hole, getting down on her knees and partly 


HUNT FOR SECRET TUNNEL 133 

thrusting her body into the opening. For 
some two minutes she continued in this posi- 
tion, thrusting here and there with her stick, 
then she withdrew her head from the hole and, 
rising to her feet, glanced sharply up and 
down the bank. 

The children had crowded close around the 
opening, their bodies tense with excitement, 
their eyes watching every act of Aunt Betty, 
too deeply interested to utter a word or make a 
movement; but, when Aunt Betty arose, the 
excitable Jennie could control herself no 
longer. 

“Is it the secret tunnel?” she cried, catching 
her by the arm and giving her a violent jerk. 
“O, do tell us, quick!” 

“No,” answered Aunt Betty, her own face 
showing disappointment. “Many years ago a 
huge boulder was imbedded in the bank; and, 
one spring, loosened by the frosts of the winter 
and with much of the ground underneath it 
washed away, the weight of the boulder broke 
the grip of the bank and the huge rock 
plunged down to the waters of Murderer’s 
Creek, where, doubtless, we could find it now, 


134 


BURIED TREASURE 


should we look, leaving behind this cavelike 
depression in the bank.” 

“Huh, what a fuss to make over an old 
boulder hole!” and Ray’s face showed his deep 
disgust. “Art, you deserve a leather medal 
made out of calfskin for your find,” and he 
grinned with boyish delight over the discom- 
fiture of Arthur, who was beginning to look 
a bit uncomfortable. 

“Better look before you yell, next time,” 
laughed Constance. “But, really,” she added 
magnanimously, “I think that hole would have 
fooled any of us, even Ray.” 

“Your cat mascot doesn’t seem to know 
what a tunnel looks like,” tantalized Ethel. 

“Well, your old doll head hasn’t even found 
a hole in the ground,” retorted Ray. “But, 
come, let’s get busy. We’ve fussed long 
enough over that old hole.” 

In a couple of minutes all were back in their 
places and the slow advance up Murderer’s 
Creek was continued. For many minutes now 
they moved slowly, but steadily, along the 
bank of the stream, without one of them find- 
ing anything that could possibly be taken for 


HUNT FOR SECRET TUNNEL! 135 

the entrance to a tunnel. This was monoto- 
nous and uninteresting; besides, the traveling 
was hard, especially for the girls, who were 
not accustomed to scrambling over stones and 
through brush; and soon their enthusiasm for 
the search began to cool, until, when at the 
end of an hour’s hunt, unenlivened by the find- 
ing of even another boulder hole, they came 
to where Silver Stream emptied its waters 
through The Glen into Murderer’s Creek, all 
were glad that the search was ended. 

“Well,” Ray declared, as he wiped his face 
with his handkerchief, for the day was hot, 
as the little company halted at the entrance to 
The Glen, “of all the fake old yarns I’ve 
heard, that about the secret tunnel is the faked- 
est. I’d like to soak the fellow’s head who 
first told it for about an hour in the water 
there,” and he pointed to Murderer’s Creek. 

“But, it is no real sign there is no tunnel, 
because we did not find it,” Constance asserted, 
her belief in the romantic legend dying hard. 
“The entrance might be all stopped up now, 
or we might have missed it.” 

“Well, we sure did miss it!” and Ray’s face 


>i 3 6 BURIED TREASURE 

pictured his disgust and his disappointment 

“And I felt almost sure that we would find 
it, because we needed to find it so much,” 
mourned Williamina. “Poor Mrs. Rose- 
wood! What will she do if we cannot help 
her?” 

“O, we haven’t pulled out all the irons we 
have in the fire yet,” encouraged Aunt Betty. 

“Anyhow there’s no need of yelling for 
cream, after the milk is spilt, as dad says,” 
Ray admonished, suddenly recovering all the 
buoyancy of his spirits, after the manner pe- 
culiar to boys. “Now, what next?” and he 
turned inquiringly to Aunt Betty. 

“Next, we’ll take a rest on that large flat 
boulder,” and she pointed to a huge flat- 
topped rock that lay half in and half out of the 
waters of Murderer’s Creek; “and use our 
thinkers for a little while in place of our legs. 
Then we will explore The Glen.” 

“And can we take off our shoes and stock- 
ings and let our feet hang down into the 
water?” queried Jennie delightedly. 

“Yes, but be very careful and not slip off 
the rock into the water.” 


HUNT FOR SECRET TUNNEL 137 

In a very short time the shoes and stockings 
were off the feet of all the children and they 
were seated on the big rock, with their feet 
hanging down into the water. 

The spirits of all had been a little depressed 
by their failure to find the hidden tunnel; but, 
after they had sat on the big rock, with their 
toes in the cool water, for a few minutes, all 
their usual liveliness came back; and, when, 
after a short rest, they had hurried their feet 
back into their shoes and stockings and had 
started up the Glen, they were again their 
merry, laughing, shouting selves. 


CHAPTER XVI 


A WONDERFUL MASCOT 

The Glen is a deep wooded ravine, with 
huge water-worn boulders, some of them 
nearly as large as small houses, piled one on 
top of the other along its bottom and sides. 
Its banks are steep and covered with trees, 
whose overhanging branches form a canopy 
of green that shuts out the direct rays of the 
sun and adds to the charm of the wild and 
picturesque scene. Along its shadowy bot- 
tom, in and out among the rocks, winds Sil- 
ver Stream, now but a narrow ribbon of silver 
that a child can jump across, having gener- 
ously given the greater part of its flow to 
slake the thirst of a near-by city. Hither, into 
these cool depths, Aunt Betty now led her 
little flock of curious and interested explorers. 

“Say, but this makes me think of the Rock- 
138 


A WONDERFUL MASCOT 139 

ies!” declared Ray enthusiastically, the mo- 
ment his eyes glanced up the boulder-strewn 
glen. “It is just like one of those rocky 
gulches one reads about.” 

“Well, it certainly is rocky enough to be the 
Rockies,” agreed Constance. “I did not sup- 
pose there was such a place as this within 
miles of here. Why, so far as looks go, we 
might be in the depths of an unexplored wil- 
derness — and to think we are only a few 
miles from one of the largest cities in the 
world!” 

“O, but wouldn’t this have been a splendid 
place in which to hide the treasure?” ex- 
claimed Mildred. “I wonder if any one has 
thought to look for it here. There are hun- 
dreds of places, under these big rocks, where 
it might have been hidden and where it would 
be almost impossible to find it, unless one knew 
where to look. I shouldn’t be surprised if it 
were hidden here.” 

“Neither would I,” declared Arthur em- 
phatically. “It is just the place a man would 
pick for such a purpose. I’ll bet that all that 
gold and silver is hidden away somewhere 


140 


BURIED TREASURE 


under one of these rocks, safely locked in an 
iron-bound chest. And — and we might stum- 
ble upon it, if we looked.” 

“Sure, and we might find a needle in a hay 
stack, if we looked,” scoffed Ray. 

“Let’s look anyway,” urged Jennie. “May- 
be our mascot will bring us luck. Is it safe?” 
and she turned to Williamina, Custodian of 
the Mascot. 

“Yes,” and Williamina snuggled the old 
doll head up close to her bosom. “I wouldn’t 
break it for anything. And I am sure it is 
going to bring us luck.” 

“What, that broken old thing bring us 
luck!” and Arthur’s face expressed his scorn. 
“Well, if we’ve got to depend on that for luck, 
we’ll never find the treasure. But, fortu- 
nately, we boys have a real live mascot,” and 
he waved his hand toward Jerry. “Trot her 
out; but don’t let her get away from you on 
your life. Let’s see what she thinks of the sit- 
uation.” 

Jerry carefully inserted one hand under his 
coat, where he had placed the mascot for safe 
keeping, and brought out the little black kit- 


A WONDERFUL MASCOT 141 

ten ; and, sitting down on a rock, held the cun- 
ning little animal in his lap. 

The kitten blinked her eyes and looked 
around; and then daintily lifted one of her 
little paws and held it posed in such a way that 
it pointed directly up The Glen. 

“Bless me!” cried Jerry, his face flushing 
with excitement. “See, the mascot points with 
her toes where we shall go!” 

“Up The Glen! She’s pointing up The 
Glen!” cried Arthur. “That means we are to 
search The Glen for the treasure. That’s the 
kind of a mascot to have,” and he turned tri- 
umphantly to the girls. “One that is alive 
and knows something and not a broken old 
doll head, with a hole in it. Come on. It’s 
up The Glen for us. Now, all get long sticks 
and poke around in the holes. Great Christ- 
mas! wouldn’t it be bully, if we should find 
the lost treasure!” and, picking up a long 
stick, Arthur started up The Glen, stopping 
to poke the stick around in every hole that he 
saw, followed by all the others, now nearly 
as excited as was he. 

This was fun and interesting and exciting 


BURIED TREASURE 


142 

for a short time; but, when, in the course of a 
half-hour, all their excited pokings into holes 
and clambering over rocks had brought to 
light nothing of interest, the sport began to 
pall. 

“That mascot of yours is no good. I’m tired 
of poking in holes,” and Constance threw 
down her stick in disgust. “If the treasure is 
hidden in this glen, it would take an army a 
year to find it. I quit,” and she sat down on a 
huge rock. 

The others all quickly grouped themselves 
around her on the rock. 

“Better trot out that mascot of yours again 
and see what she thinks of the situation now,” 
laughed Ethel. “Perhaps she will point out 
the treasure this time.” 

“Sure,” grinned Ray. “Jerry,” and he 
turned to the Guardian of the Black Cat, “you 
are master of ceremonies. Kindly give an- 
other demonstration of the power of our 
mascot for the benefit of these doubting 
sisters.” 

Jerry smiled broadly and again carefully 
pulled out the little black kitten from her re- 


A WONDERFUL MASCOT 143 

treat under his coat and cautiously sat her 
down on his lap. 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” and Ray 
made a sweeping, if not graceful, gesture with 
his two hands, “observe the actions of this cat 
and note their mysterious — mysterious ” 

“Significance,” suggested Constance. 

“Right, lady. Thank you. Note their mys- 
terious significance. Now observe ” 

The kitten stretched herself; and then, to 
the amusement of all, especially the girls, she 
lay down and contentedly curled herself up 
in Jerry’s lap. 

But Ray was equal to the occasion. 

“Observe,” he declared oracularly, “how 
the mascot seeks repose in the lap of her 
guardian, plainly indicating it is time for us 
to take a rest.” 

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” exclaimed Con- 
stance sarcastically. 

“Poke her up, you chump! Poke her up!” 
hoarsely whispered Ray, under cover of the 
hearty laugh that followed. 

Jerry poked. The kitten, thus reminded of 
her duty, stood up, but stood still, to the dis- 


1 44 


BURIED TREASURE 


comfiture of Ray, who could discover no spe- 
cial significance in this action or, rather, lack 
of action; but quick-witted Jerry again proved 
himself a worthy mascot guardian. 

“The tail!” he cried. “See, she points with 
her tail!” 

And, indeed, it did look as if the kitten 
might be using her tail for that purpose; for 
she held it stiffly outstretched, pointing up the 
steep bank of the Glen at an angle of about 
forty-five degrees. 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen” — Ray caught 
on quickly — “observe that tail. See how stiffly 
it is held, pointing in a certain direction, thus 
indicating the exact place where we should 
look for the hidden treasure. Now, with your 
kind permission, I will sight along the tail 
and ascertain the exact spot to which it is 
pointing,” and Ray, to the delight of all, knelt 
by the side of Jerry and gravely squinted with 
one eye along the black tail of the black cat, 
as if it were the barrel of a rifle. 

“Eureka!” and Ray jumped quickly to his 
feet. “See that hole under that big rock about 
halfway up the side of the bank. As sure as 


A WONDERFUL MASCOT 145 

I am a borned sinner the tail points straight 
into that hole; and I’ll bet that’s where the 
treasure is hidden. Hurrah, for the boys’ mas- 
cot! Come on! Let’s investigate!” and, grab- 
bing up his poking-stick, Ray started up the 
steep bank toward the hole as fast as his feet 
and hands could take him. With much laugh- 
ter and merry shoutings, the others, catching 
up their poking-sticks, followed. 

The side of the bank here is formed of huge 
boulders, piled one on top of another; and, 
about halfway up the side, one of the largest 
of these boulders had fallen on top of two 
other boulders in such a way as to roof over a 
space between the two under rocks, forming a 
narrow, cave-like cavity about a foot wide by 
three feet high and extending back under the 
rock farther than the eyes could see. The kit- 
ten’s tail, according to Ray, had pointed di- 
rectly into this hole. 

In two minutes Ray and the other children 
had reached this opening; and each, in 
turn, was peering excitedly into its dark 
depths. 

“It certainly does look like a good hiding- 


146 BURIED TREASURE 

place,” admitted Ethel, as she made way for 
Constance to look in the hole. “And it is up 
so high that no water could get into it, even 
during the spring freshets. But, how are we 
to find out what is in it? It is hardly large 
enough for any one to crawl into.” 

“Why, the same way we explored the other 
holes — poke in our sticks. Now, if you will 
stand back a little, Con, so as not to be in my 
way, I’ll see whether or not the iron-bound 
treasure-chest is hidden in the dark depths of 
this hole,” and Ray stepped in front of the 
hole, the long stick in his hand. 

“O, what if we should find the treasure!” 
exclaimed Williamina, crowding a bit closer 
to Ray. “Wouldn’t Mrs. Rosewood be the 
happy woman?” 

“No danger,” declared the skeptical Con- 
stance. “I didn’t suppose boys could be so 
silly as to take directions from a cat’s tail in a 
lost-treasure hunt.” 

“But, it might happen to be in there, you 
know,” affirmed Jennie, who was always half- 
expecting something mysterious to happen. 
“That kitten’s tail might just have happened 


A WONDERFUL MASCOT 147 

to point toward it. I’ve read about just such 
queer things happening.” 

“Sure,” grinned Ray. “If the treasure is 
not in there, why should the cat’s tail have 
pointed into the hole? That’s what I’d like 
to know. Now, everybody keep quiet and lis- 
ten with both ears, so that we can hear when 
the end of the stick goes thud-thud against the 
iron-bound treasure-chest,” and he thrust the 
long stick into the hole and began poking it 
around inside. 

“Gee!” and Ray’s face showed sudden ex- 
citement. “There is something in there! I 
can feel it with the stick — Jumping Moses!” 
and, with a wild yell, Ray dropped the stick 
and sprang backward so suddenly that he lost 
his balance and rolled sprawlingly down the 
side of the Glen, just as a little animal, with 
broad white stripes running along his back, 
scurried out of the hole and darted swiftly 
into another hole under a near-by rock, while 
the air became heavy with a nauseating odor. 

The girls screamed, the boys yelled and all 
tumbled pell-mell down the side of the Glen 
to where Aunt Betty stood, for the moment 


148 BURIED TREASURE 

fearful that something dreadful had happened 
to give her young charges such a fright. But 
her suspense was of short duration; for along 
with the boys and girls came the odor. 

“Phew! A skunk!” she cried. “And so you 
found a skunk in that hole instead of an iron- 
bound treasure-chest! Well, the little animal 
won’t hurt you — that is, he won’t, if you keep 
far enough away from him ! Hope no one was 
hurt in your mad scramble down the side of 
the Glen. You all certainly showed speed,” 
and the smile on her face broadened, as she 
noted that all of the youngsters had reached 
her side, right side up and safe and sound, ex- 
cept Ray, who had bumped his nose in his 
tumble, causing it to bleed, and had covered 
his clothes with dirt. However, the thump on 
Ray’s nose was not at all serious and the bleed- 
ing soon stopped, while Jennie and William- 
ina, who had hurried anxiously to his side at 
sight of the blood, made short work of the 
dirt on his clothes. 

“I’d like to choke you, you black little ras- 
cal!” and Ray, the moment he had his nose 
under control, shook his fist in simulated wrath 


A WONDERFUL MASCOT 149 

at the kitten, now resting quietly in Jerry’s 
lap. “I’ll bet you knew that that skunk was in 
that hole. No more poking into holes under 
rocks for me.” 

“Allow me to congratulate you on your won- 
derful, wonderful mascot!” and Constance 
made Ray a sweeping courtesy. “Had I not 
seen it with mine own eyes and smelt it with 
mine own nose, I would not have believed it. 
I am sure our mascot could never have found 
that skunk in that wonderful way.” 

“Well, I should hope not,” declared Ethel 
emphatically. “Phew, that skunk must have 
been mostly smell ! Let’s get out of here. I — 
I — I’ve had all the treasure-hunting I want 
for to-day.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


“if we only could do something to help 

MRS. ROSEWOOD” 

No one needed any urging to vacate that 
part of the Glen; and in a few minutes more 
they had climbed the steep bank and had 
come to where a road crossed an old stone 
bridge that spanned, with a single narrow 
arch, the waters of Silver Stream. 

“Why,” exclaimed Mildred, in pleased 
surprise, the moment the little party came to 
the bridge, “there’s the General Knox Head- 
quarters House! I did not suppose we were 
within miles of it!” 

“Yes,” smiled Aunt Betty. “The Glen be- 
gins only a short distance from the old house; 
and the road we are now on was the public 
road in Revolutionary times and ran directly 
in front of the General Knox Headquarters 
150 


TO HELP MRS. ROSEWOOD 151 

House: This old stone bridge,” and she 
paused on the arch of the bridge, “is a relic of 
those old days; and, doubtless, Washington, 
Lafayette, Knox and other men now famous 
in our history, have often stood where we are 
now standing and looked with admiration on 
the beautiful scene before them, even as we 
are now looking. The scene has changed but 
little since then; so that our eyes are now be- 
holding almost the same things that the eyes 
of Washington and his officers beheld in those 
long-gone days — the old bridge, the hurrying 
waters of Silver Stream, the mill-dam in the 
distance, the old house, all were in the beauti- 
ful scene then, as they are now.” 

For a few minutes the interested children 
stood clustered on the old bridge, admiring 
the beautiful scene and dreaming of the long- 
vanished days when Washington and Lafay- 
ette, possibly, had stood where they were now 
standing and looked on the same scene. 

“Too bad, it’s too bad that Mrs. Rosewood 
must lose this dear old place, hallowed by so 
many sacred memories of the past!” sighed 
Constance. “Now, if we only could do some- 


152 


BURIED TREASURE 


thing to really help her; but everything we 
try seems to fail.” 

“O, if we only can!” and Williamina’s eyes 
rested longingly on the old house. “I never 
wanted to help any one as much as I want to 
help Mrs. Rosewood; and she needs help so 
much!” 

“Then, just do your best to-morrow, when 
you interview that old skinflint, Dean Alton,” 
admonished Arthur. “Better have a barrel of 
tears on tap; for you will have to drown out 
his heart to find it.” 

“O, I am sure, when he knows how terribly 
hard it will be for Mrs. Rosewood to leave her 
old home, that he will not drive her out; and 
she nearly eighty years old! I don’t believe 
even Dean Alton could be as cruel as 
that!” 

“I sincerely hope you are right, Williamina. 
Well, to-morrow will tell; but it is getting 
late and we must be moving,” and Aunt Betty 
led the way up the road toward the General 
Knox Headquarters House. 

“Can we — do you think it would be all right 
for us to call on Mrs. Rosewood, to tell her 


TO HELP MRS. ROSEWOOD 153 

how sorry we are that she is sick and how will- 
ingly we could help her in anyway we could ?” 
and Ethel turned a pair of solicitous eyes to 
Aunt Betty. 

“ I am afraid that the excitement of such a 
visit would be too much for Mrs. Rosewood 
just at present. However, I will call and in- 
quire how she is feeling this afternoon; and 
will see that your message of sympathy and 
helpfulness is given to her.” 

Accordingly, when our little company 
reached the General Knox Headquarters 
House, Aunt Betty went to the door and 
knocked softly, while the others hovered to- 
gether in an anxious group a short distance 
away. 

The door was opened by a big, rough-look- 
ing man, who, after regarding the young 
woman and the group of children back of her 
curiously for a minute, wished to know what 
was wanted. 

Aunt Betty told him; and the man, with un- 
expected kindness, hurried away to find if 
Mrs. Rosewood was in condition to receive 
callers. In a couple of minutes he was back; 


BURIED TREASURE 


154 

and with him came a motherly looking, mid- 
dle-aged woman, one of Mrs. Rosewood’s near 
neighbors, who told them that Mrs. Rosewood, 
for the first time in many hours, was sleeping 
soundly and that the doctor had left orders 
that she must not be disturbed by any one. 
She promised to tell Mrs. Rosewood of their 
call, when she awoke, and to give her their 
message of sympathy, and thanked them for 
their offers of help and promised to call on 
them, if there were need. 

“Is she any better to-day?” asked William- 
ina anxiously, as the woman paused. 

“No, I cannot say that she is,” answered the 
woman. “But we have great hopes of what 
this long sleep will do for her. The doctor 
said it was what she needed most. Poor 
woman, the thought of being driven out of her 
home, the dear home of her fathers for so 
many generations, was almost too much for 
her to bear! Alas, that there should be such 
cruel people in the world!” and she shook her 
head mournfully. “But you must excuse me. 
I have been away from my patient longer now 
than I should have been. Please make as lit- 


TO HELP MRS. ROSEWOOD 155 

tie noise as possible on your way out,” and she 
hurried back into the house. 

Not a word was spoken by the saddened 
children and all walked softly, until the public 
road was reached. 

“Was — was that man who came to the door 
one of the two men sent by Dean Alton to keep 
guard over the things in the house, so that 
none of them would run off?” asked Ethel, 
as all started down the road toward their 
homes. 

“Yes,” answered Aunt Betty. “But the men 
are not to blame for the seeming harshness of 
their work. They are only doing their duty; 
and, I fancy, they are endeavoring to rob the 
doing of that duty of all the disagreeableness 
possible. The man who came to the door was 
very friendly and sympathetic.” 

“Yes, he was all right, but he looked tough; 
and, at first, I thought he would set the dog 
on us ; but his face proved worse than his bite,” 
and Ray grinned. “Just the same it seems 
tough on Mrs. Rosewood to have them there 
at all, just as if she needed watching! I wish 
that we could find that hidden treasure. Then 


156 BURIED TREASURE 

we would have to ask no favors of old Alton; 
and could send him about his business in a 
jiffy. Don’t you think we’d better have an- 
other try for it?” and he turned anxiously to 
Aunt Betty. 

“Possibly we will have another try for the 
treasure, especially if our mission to-morrow 
to Dean Alton fails. But, we will have to 
wait and see what to-morrow brings forth. 
Well, here we are at the parting of our ways,” 
and Aunt Betty paused, as the little company 
reached the spot where the road forked. 
“Now,” and she turned to Constance, Wil- 
liamina and Ray, whose road here separated 
them from her, “be sure and be up and ready 
on time to-morrow morning. I will call for 
you and we will ride to the railroad station to- 
gether.” 

“And remember,” Constance warned, as 
Aunt Betty, accompanied by a number of oth- 
ers, started off down the road that led to 
their boarding places, “that the next meeting 
of the Boulder Club will be day after to-mor- 
row, at one o’clock, p.m., on the great Coun- 
cil-Stone of the Dead Chiefs, in the Field of 


TO HELP MRS. ROSEWOOD 157 

the Great Stones. Let each member be on 
hand promptly.” 

“You bet!” answered Arthur, who was with 
Aunt Betty. “We’ll be there, dead or alive. 
Don’t forget to bring along your mascot,” he 
added, laughing. 

“Sure,” answered back Constance. “We 
couldn’t do business without that. Better 
leave yours at home. We are not going skunk 
hunting, you know.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


WHAT CAME OF THE VISIT TO DEAN ALTON 

On the afternoon of the day of the next 
meeting of the Boulder Club every member 
was on hand promptly; and when, at exactly 
one o’clock, Constance stepped upon the Great 
Council-Stone of the Dead Chiefs and gave 
voice to the club yell, the response was sudden 
and enthusiastic; and, in a moment more, the 
council-fire that glowed near the center of 
the great stone was surrounded by a circle of 
eager, anxious-eyed children. There was a 
look of expectancy, of suppressed excitement 
on the face of each; for all were “just dying,” 
as Jennie expressed it, to learn the result of 
the visit to Dean Alton. Had they succeeded 
in touching the hard heart of the old lawyer? 
Would they be able to deliver a message of 
hope and cheer to dear old Mrs. Rosewood? 

158 


THE VISIT TO DEAN ALTON 159 

Constance called the club to order; but, be- 
fore she could start the regular routine of 
business, Arthur jumped to his feet. 

“Let’s cut out all the fussings and trim- 
mings,” he demanded. “We are all too 
anxious to hear about that visit to Dean Alton 
to bother with such things. Let’s have the re- 
port at once.” 

“Yes — yes!” cried half a dozen voices. 

“Give us the report. Don’t bother with 
anything else. I move that we have the re- 
port now,” and Ethel jumped to her feet. 

“Second the motion!” almost shouted Ar- 
thur. 

“I do not think this is strictly according to 
parliamentary ” began Constance. 

“Bother the big words!” interrupted Ar- 
thur. “Give us the motion.” 

“All right,” laughed Constance, and put the 
motion, which was carried unanimously. 

“Now tell us,” questioned Jennie eagerly, 
“did you get Dean Alton to let up on Mrs. 
Rosewood, to agree to allow her to live in the 
old house as long as she needs a home?” 

“No,” answered Constance indignantly. 


160 BURIED TREASURE 

u We did not. He only smiled his wicked, 
foxy smile and said that he was sorry, but that 
the law would have to take its course, that, 
doubtless, Mrs. Rosewood would be better off 
anyway in some home for dependent old la- 
dies, where she would have the companion- 
ship of other women and where she would be 
taken proper care of, than she would be living 
almost alone in that dreary old house. He 
even had the effrontery,” and Constance’s eyes 
flashed angrily, “to offer to use his influence to 
get her into a home, where, he smilingly as- 
sured us, she would have the best of care. I’d 
like to have slapped his smiling old mouth, 
when he said that,” and Constance’s face 
flushed, even at the remembrance. 

“And I thought, for a moment, that you 
were going to,” declared Ray. 

“Wish you had. He deserved it,” snapped 
Jennie. “The mean old skinflint!” 

“And — and did you tell him the doctor said 
it would be the death of Mrs. Rosewood to be 
driven out of her old home?” Mildred asked, 
the tears in her eyes, “that even the thought 
of it had made her sick?” 


THE VISIT TO DEAN ALTON 161 


“We did,” answered Constance grimly; 
“but the old fox only smiled and replied that 
it was but natural for Mrs. Rosewood to feel 
badly about leaving her old home, any one 
would; but that, really, she had no one to 
blame but herself for the necessity, that, if 
she had been less extravagant and more busi- 
nesslike, she might have held on to the old 
place as long as she lived, that he could see no 
reason why he, almost a total stranger to her, 
should be called on to give her a home for the 
rest of her life, just because she happened to 
be old and unfortunate, that, if he allowed 
such sentimental vagaries to govern his busi- 
ness transactions, he soon would be a pauper 
himself.” 

“No danger of that,” broke in Ray, no 
longer able to keep silent. “He’ll never be a 
pauper on account of his generosity. Why, he 
even refused to postpone the — the turning out 
of Mrs. Rosewood a day, or even an hour, to 
give us more time to do something. Fie said 
that he was only doing what the justice of the 
law bid him do; and, when Williamina began 
to plead with him, the tears running down her 


BURIED TREASURE 


162 

face, he grinned and offered her his handker- 
chief. That made Williamina mad and she 
called him an ugly old skinflint right to his 
face.” 

“Bully for Williamina!” broke in Jerry, a 
grin all over his countenance. 

“And then his face got hard, like marble,” 
Ray continued; “and he arose from his chair 
and bowed, politelike, and begged us to excuse 
him, but, really, he was too busy to allow any 
more of his time to be taken up by children 
and a meddlesome young woman and that he 
would be pleased to bid us good day. Then 
Aunt Betty got mad; and I guess Dean Alton 
knows now what other people think of him,” 
and Ray grinned. 

“At least he knows what I think of him,” 
declared Aunt Betty. 

“You bet he does,” assented Ray emphatic- 
ally. “I thought once you were going to slap 
him one on the face,” and his eyes sparkled at 
the recollection. 

“I did lose my temper, that’s a fact,” ad- 
mitted Aunt Betty. “But Dean Alton was 
enough to provoke a saint. However, since 


THE VISIT TO DEAN ALTON 163 

you now all know the result of our mission and 
that it is useless to hope for anything from 
Dean Alton, let us drop Dean Alton and take 
up some more agreeable subject.” 

“But, what can we do now to help Mrs. 
Rosewood?” asked Ethel, her face showing 
deep concern. “My mother called yesterday 
afternoon and saw Mrs. Rosewood for a few 
minutes; and she thinks she can live only a 
few days, unless something can be done to put 
new life and hope in her. She says that it is 
the thought of being driven out of her home 
that is killing her, that her only hope now is 
to die before she is obliged to go, that she had 
rather go to her grave than to some home for 
dependent old women. It is terrible not to be 
able to help, when one wants to help so badly! 
Can’t we do something?” and the tears gath- 
ered in Ethel’s eyes. 

“Yes, yes,” implored Williamina. “Do tell 
us something to do? You know Dean Alton 
told us that the last day of grace in which the 
- — the — what Mrs. Rosewood owes could be 
paid so that she could keep her home would 
be to-morrow, so that whatever we do must be 


1 64 BURIED TREASURE 

done to-day. Do think up something to do?” 
and her eyes sought the face of Aunt Betty. 

For a moment she sat silent, while the eyes 
of all were fixed anxiously on her face, then 
she arose slowly to her feet, her countenance 
plainly showing the deep concern and dis- 
couragement that she felt. 

“If we had more time,” she began, “we 
might be able to accomplish something, might 
find friends who could and would help, might 
appeal to the Daughters of the Revolution 
and other patriotic organizations to save the 
old historic house; but it is impossible to do 
that now, the time is too short ” 

“But, we can have another try for the treas- 
ure !” interrupted Arthur excitedly. “It is our 
only chance now; and we might stumble upon 
the treasure. Such things have happened.” 

“Yes,” urged Constance, “we must have 
another try for the treasure. I want to ex- 
amine that old casket again. There might be 
a false bottom or some other hiding-place in 
it, where the key to the lost treasure might be 
hidden, that no one has yet found. I’ve read 
of such hiding-places in caskets like that.” 


THE VISIT TO DEAN ALTON 165 

“And I think we ought to knock a hole in 
the base of the big chimney in the cellar. I — 
I’ve felt all along as if a treasure vault might 
be concealed in that, it is so big. Come on! 
The treasure is our only hope ! We must have 
another look for the lost treasure. Come on!” 
and Ray jumped excitedly to his feet. 

In a moment more all were on their feet; 
and all were urging Aunt Betty to take them 
to the General Knox Headquarters House for 
another look for the treasure, hidden by Mrs. 
Rosewood’s Revolutionary ancestor so many 
years ago. 

“We will keep very quiet and do nothing to 
disturb Mrs. Rosewood,” pleaded Constance. 
“She need not even know that we are in the 
house, unless she is well enough to see us.” 

“Very well,” Aunt Betty yielded. “I hesi- 
tated because I thought the excitement of your 
coming might not be good for Mrs. Rose- 
wood; but, if you will all promise to keep 
very, very still, we will see what we can do. 
When I called this morning, Mrs. Rosewood 
was feeling a little better.” 

“Hurrah!” and the excitable Arthur threw 


1 66 


BURIED TREASURE 


his hat up into the air. “Come on!” and he 
started off in the direction of the General 
Knox Headquarters House, followed by all 
the others, thus, abruptly and without any re- 
gard to parliamentary usages, bringing an end 
to this very irregular session of the Boulder 
Club. 

“O, how I hope we do find the treasure!” 
exclaimed Williamina, as they hurried 
through the Field of the Great Stones. 
“Wouldn’t it just be great luck, if we should? 
And I’d like to be the one to pay off old Dean 
Alton.” 

“He’d be so mad he’d die of apoplexy or 
something,” grinned Ray. “But, sure now, 
since you have fixed up your mascot in such 
grand style, we ought to have all kinds of good 
luck,” and the grin broadened, as his eyes 
turned to the broken doll head, which Wil- 
liamina’s mother had attached to a doll’s body 
and dressed in full Colonial costume and 
which Williamina now held tenderly and 
carefully in her arms. “That dress is perfect- 
ly stunning. But. don’t imagine yours is the 
only mascot that can show style. Jerry, trot 


THE VISIT TO DEAN ALTON 167 

out Blackie,” and he turned to the little Irish 
lad. 

Jerry smiled all over his face, thrust one 
hand under his coat and proudly pulled out 
from underneath its shelter the little black 
kitten, now decorated with a gorgeous red rib- 
bon, tied in a big bow around her neck, and 
narrow pink ribbons, tied in little bows mid- 
way around her tail and around each leg, just 
above the paw, while the tail ended in a bril- 
liant-colored tassel of red white and blue 
streamers. 

“There, what do you think of our mascot?” 
and Ray turned triumphantly to the girls. 

“Well, I can’t say that I like the color 
scheme of the decorations,” laughed Con- 
stance. “However, I fancy, they’ll do for such 
a mascot; but, put not your trust in his tail 
again. We are not looking for rare perfumes, 
you know.” 

“Rank, rank perfumes, you mean,” hastily 
interposed Ethel. 

“Well, our mascot found something, any- 
way; and that’s more than your old doll head 
has done,” Ray answered, flushing. 


BURIED TREASURE 


1 68 

“Wait,” smiled Constance, “ours hasn’t be- 
gun to get in her work yet, while yours has 
probably done her best.” 

“Shucks!” laughed Ray, “that wasn’t her 
best. She might point out an elephant or a 
hippopotamus the next time.” 

“We’ll be satisfied with the treasure,” an- 
swered Constance. “But,” and her face so- 
bered, “here we are at the house. Now re- 
member, no more loud talking; and we must 
all move just as silently as possible.” 

By this time our little company had reached 
the arched stone gateway that opened from 
the public road into the parklike yard back 
of the General Knox Headquarters House; 
and, as they passed under its heavy stone arch, 
a look of anxious determination, of a sober 
earnestness, came on the face of each one; for 
they realized that, if they failed in the quest 
they were now about to begin, nothing could 
save Mrs. Rosewood from the greedy gold- 
clutch of Dean Alton. They spoke in whis- 
pers and walked lightly, as they hurried across 
the yard and around to the long porch that 
fronted the quaint old house. 


THE VISIT TO DEAN ALTON 169 

“Wait for me here; and keep very quiet,” 
admonished Aunt Betty, as they came to a halt 
in front of the entrance to the house, “while I 
find out whether or not Mrs. Rosewood is well 
enough to see us,” and she went to the door 
and lifted the old knocker and let it sound 
softly. 


CHAPTER XIX 

THE OLD DIARY 

For ten minutes, although to the anxious 
boys and girls it seemed nearer an hour, the 
children waited. Then the door opened and 
Aunt Betty came out. 

“Can we — will Mrs. Rosewood see us?” 
queried Ethel anxiously, at the top of her 
whispering voice, the moment Aunt Betty was 
near enough to hear. 

“Yes, for a few minutes. But you must all 
keep very quiet while in the sick-room and 
not show any excitement. Mrs. Rosewood is 
a little stronger and feeling a little better to- 
day; and Mrs. Brownly, the good neighbor 
who is now caring for her, does not think it 
will harm her to see you for a short time, pro- 
viding you will keep very quiet and do noth- 
170 


THE OLD DIARY 


171 

ing to excite her. Besides, Mrs. Rosewood 
wishes to see you all.” 

“We’ll be as still as little mouses,” promised 
Williamina; “and not how the least bit of 
excitement, no matter what happens.” 

“And can we — did you ask her if we could 
search the house?” questioned Arthur eagerly. 

“Yes, she is willing, only she thinks that it 
will be useless — it has been searched vainly so 
often. But, Mrs. Rosewood is waiting,” and 
Aunt Betty led the way into the house. 

Mrs. Rosewood lay on a large, old-fash- 
ioned bed. The curtains of the one window 
were drawn; and, in the dim light of the room, 
the sweet, ivory-white, kindly old face 
crowned with white hair and lying cupped in a 
white pillow, had a wondrous spiritualized 
look, as if the eyes already had been seeing a 
vision of the glories of paradise. 

The children entered the room softly, awed 
and sobered as they had never been before in 
their lives. Mrs. Rosewood smiled faintly 
and, lifting a thin white hand, held it out 
weakly to Constance, who stood nearest to 
her. 


BURIED TREASURE 


172 

“I am more than glad to see you, to see you 
all,” she said, as she clasped Constance’s hand, 
while her eyes passed swiftly from face to 
face. “I have wished to see you very much — 
you are so young and so full of hope, your 
presence is like a breath from my own long- 
long-gone childhood,” and she sighed. “But, 
you will pardon me, I know, if I let this hand- 
clasp do for all of you. I am not very strong. 
I — I am really beginning to feel as if I were 
getting old,” and the smile returned to her 
face. 

“Betty tells me that you wish to make a last 
search for the treasure of my ancestors, hid- 
den for so many years. I appreciate fully the 
loving motives that prompt you to make this 
search ; but,” and the old face saddened, “many 
have searched and vainly for this same treas- 
ure. However, search to your hearts’ con- 
tent. I wish you luck. Now, please, come up 
close, all of you. I,” and the sadness of her 
face deepened and she dropped Constance’s 
hand and lay very still, while the awed chil- 
dren gathered close to the bedside. “I, before 
the break comes You know I must leave 


THE OLD DIARY 


i73 

this dear old home soon,” and she smiled 
bravely. “But, before I go, I wish to give 
each of you a little souvenir, something that 
you can keep in remembrance of your visit to 
the old house and to me. Mrs. Brownly,” and 
she turned to the kindly nurse, “please bring 
me the old casket, the one I had you bring me 
yesterday.” 

Mrs. Brownly nodded and smiled and hur- 
ried from the room. 

“We are very glad to find you looking so 
well,” Constance said, as cheerfully and as 
hopefully as possible as Mrs. Brownly left the 
room; “and we hope that it will be only a few 
days before you will be as well as ever again.” 

“Thank you,” Mrs. Rosewood smiled back. 
“But, when one is old, health and strength do 
not come back as quickly as they did in youth. 
Ah!” and her face lighted up, as she caught 
sight of the doll Williamina held so carefully 
and lovingly in her arms. “What a quaint and 
beautiful doll you have there! May I see it, 
please? Why, it is dressed like a little lady 
of the Revolution! And the head, yes, I am 
sure it belongs to those old days. They do not 


BURIED TREASURE 


174 

make such china doll heads now,” and her 
eyes brightened with interest and pleasure, as 
Williamina, stepping close to the bedside, sat 
the doll down on the bed in front of her. 
“Why, the lady looks as if she might have 
come fresh from the arms of one of the little 
maids of that long ago!” 

“And maybe she did,” smiled Williamina, 
flushing with pleasure at Mrs. Rosewood’s ad- 
miration and praise of her doll. “That is, 
maybe the head did; for I found the head 
carefully hidden away in the ruins of the old 
Ettrick House.” 

“Did you?” and Mrs. Rosewood’s eyes 
shone with new interest. “Then my own 
great-grandmother may have kissed the roses 
on those cheeks!” and she lifted the old doll 
tenderly and held it up before her eyes; “for 
she and the little Ettrick girl were great 
chums and visited each other nearly every 
day, according to the diary my great-grand- 
mother kept when she was a little girl. She 
even writes of having a dear china doll that 
she has named Esther, Queen Esther, yes, I 
am sure that is the name. Now, what if this 


THE OLD DIARY 


175 


should prove to be that very doll!” and she 
gently pressed a kiss on one of the rosy cheeks. 
“We must have a look in that diary some day 
and see what she says about her china doll. 
It is all very interesting. Would you like to 
read the diary?” 

“O, I should love to!” and Williamina’s 
eyes sparkled. “And the doll might really 
have been her doll! Anyway, I am going to 
name it Queen Esther. And we girls have 
made it our mascot. Don’t you think it makes 
a lovely mascot?” 

“Indeed, I do! And if any mascot ever 
brought good luck, then this old doll head 
surely will bring you good luck.” 

“But, just wait until you see our mascot!” 
broke in Ray, unwilling longer for the girls’ 
mascot to usurp all the attention. “We boys 
have a real live mascot; and we, too, found 
her in the ruins of the old Ettrick house. 
Jerry,” and Ray turned to the sturdy little 
Irish lad, “show Mrs. Rosewood our mascot.” 

“Shure and she is the darlint,” and the usual 
grin overspread Jerry’s face, as he stepped up 
to the bedside by the side of Williamina and, 


1 76 BURIED TREASURE 

thrusting his hand under his coat, proudly 
pulled out the beribboned kitten and gently 
placed her down on the bed by the side of the 
doll. 

“O, you little black beauty!” and Mrs. 
Rosewood laid a hand softly on the kitten’s 
head. 

“That is our mascot, the boys’ mascot,” ex- 
plained Ray. “Don’t you think we have a 
dandy mascot?” 

“Indeed, you have!” and Mrs. Rosewood 
gently stroked the soft black back. “If you 
girls and boys do not have good luck, with 
two such splendid mascots working for you, 
then I will lose my faith in mascots.” 

“And we brought them both along to help 
us find the treasure,” declared Jennie. 

“And I hope they bring you the best of 

luck But, here is Mrs. Brownly, with 

the casket. Now, if you will please take 
charge of these dear mascots, I’ll have Mrs. 
Brownly place the casket on the bed in front 
of me.” 

Williamina and Jerry quickly removed the 
mascots; and Mrs. Brownly laid the casket 


THE OLD DIARY 


177 

down in their place on the bed in front of 
Mrs. Rosewood. 

Constance’s eyes lighted up with interest the 
moment they rested on the quaint, pearl-in- 
laid, richly carved casket; for it was the same 
casket that had so greatly awakened her in- 
terest on their first visit to the old house and 
which she was so anxious to examine again, to 
see if there was not some secret hiding-place 
in it where the missing key to the cryptic piece 
of torn parchment might be concealed. 

Mrs. Brownly, with the aid of pillows, 
gently raised Mrs. Rosewood to a half-sitting 
posture and placed the casket in her lap. 
Mrs. Rosewood unlocked the casket, with a 
little gold key that hung from a thin gold 
chain suspended around her neck, and, slowly 
opening it, took from out it a much worn, 
quaint, little, old book, whose originally white 
blank pages were now yellowed with age and 
closely written over in a peculiar girlish hand, 
the ink faded until in places the writing was 
almost undecipherable. 

“This,” and Mrs. Rosewood’s eyes rested 
pensively on the little book, “was my great- 


178 BURIED TREASURE 

grandmother’s diary, of which I spoke, written 
when she was a little girl, and tells of her daily 
life at home during the dramatic days of the 
Revolution. That doll has made me think 
that this is just the souvenir to give William- 
ina, since she has become the mother of the 
doll, that, possibly, was once mothered by the 
little writer of the diary. Would you value 
it very highly and keep it very carefully, for 
I have prized it greatly and would not care to 
see the little book go to careless or indifferent 
hands?” 

“Indeed, I would value it the most of any- 
thing I have,” and Williamina’s eyes shone 
with delight. “But,” and she hesitated, “you 
— you surely do not mean me to keep this prec- 
ious little book that your own great-grand- 
mother wrote when she was a little girl, do 
you?” and her eyes turned questioningly to the 
kindly old face. 

“Yes,” smiled Mrs. Rosewood. “I give you 
the book to keep. I have long wished to give 
the book to some little girl that I felt sure 
would appreciate and care for it. It will tell 
you something of how a brave little girl lived 



“BUT," AND WILLIAMINA HESITATED, “you — YOU SURELY DO NOT 
MEAN ME TO KEEP THIS PRECIOUS LITTLE BOOK THAT YOUR OWN GREAT- 
GRANDMOTHER WROTE WHEN SHE WAS A LITTLE GIRL, DO YOU?” 



THE OLD DIARY 


179 


in those long-ago days. With my love,” and, 
lifting the book up tenderly, she placed it in 
Williamina’s hands. 

“Thank you! Thank you so much! You 
could not have given me anything that I 
should love to have more than this dear old 
book,” and Williamina, her face flushing and 
her eyes sparkling, took the little book. “I’d 
love to sit right down now and read it,” and 
she opened the book reverently and softly, 
awed by the thought that the little girl who 
wrote it had lived so many years ago, and 
looked wonderingly on the quaint, faded writ- 
ing within. 

“Now,” and Mrs. Rosewood lifted her eyes 
ro the faces of the others, “if each of you will 
step up to the bedside in turn, I will hand each 
one a memento, of little value in itself, but 
which I know you will prize, because it will 
always remind you of the dear old house and 
of your visit here. Constance, you first. 
This,” and she lifted out of the casket and 
placed in Constance’s hand a delicate bit of 
old lace and linen, “was my great-grand- 
mother’s wedding handkerchief, used only on 


i8o 


BURIED TREASURE 


her wedding day and then placed away among 
her treasures to be kept as a sacred memento. 
I know you will prize it because of its tender 
associations.” 

Thus, one by one, Mrs. Rosewood placed in 
the hands of each girl and boy some little me- 
mento of her past, fragrant with old-time 
memories, of little value in itself, but to be al- 
ways cherished by the girl or boy receiving it, 
as a souvenir of the quaint old house and its 
lovable mistress. 

“I think,” and Aunt Betty glanced a little 
anxiously at the face of Mrs. Rosewood, when 
the last memento had been handed out, “that 
we have troubled Mrs. Rosewood enough for 
one day and had better be on our way. You 
know, we haven’t begun the treasure-hunt 
yet!” 

“But — but we need to begin it right here,” 
answered Constance, her eyes on the casket. 
“If Mrs. Rosewood will only be so good as to 
let us examine the old casket closely. We 
think there might be some secret hiding-place 
in it, a false bottom or something, where the 
key to the torn bit of parchment that tells 


THE OLD DIARY 


181 

where the treasure was hid, might be con- 
cealed. Can we?” and her eyes turned long- 
ingly to the sweet old face. 

“I once thought the same,” smiled Mrs. 
Rosewood; “and so I took the casket to an 
expert cabinet-maker and had him take it all 
apart and examine each piece of wood sepa- 
rately.” 

“And you found no secret hiding-place?” 
and Constance’s face showed her disappoint- 
ment. 

“Not a sign of one.” 

“O, dear! And I felt almost sure! Why, 
I dreamt only last night that we found the key 
in the bottom of that very casket. I’ll never 
put any faith in dreams again.” 

“But, have you ever knocked a hole in the 
bottom of the big chimney down in the cellar, 
to see if there might not be a secret treasure- 
vault in it? asked Ray, his eyes glowing. “It’s 
big enough to have a good-sized room in 
it!” 

“No, that is one place where no one has 
looked, so far as I know,” laughed Mrs. Rose- 
wood. 


182 


BURIED TREASURE 


“And can we knock a hole in it, just big 
enough to see?” queried Ray eagerly. 

“I am afraid you might knock the old house 

down about my ears But, wait,” and Mrs. 

Rosewood paused a moment, while her face 
sobered. “The base of that chimney certainly 
does look larger than there is any need of its 
being. There might be something in what 
you say, there might be something in it; and 

it will harm nothing to try Yes,” and her 

face flushed faintly, “you can try the old chim- 
ney, if you will get Mr. Davis, one of the men 
in the house,” and the flush deepened, as she 
thought of why the men were there, “to do the 
work. He is a stonemason by trade and will 
do the work safely. I never thought I could 
have even a flicker of hope again; and here I 
am getting almost as excited over that old 
chimney as is Ray himself,” and she smiled 
whimsically. 

“ ‘Hope springs eternal in the human 
breast!’ ” quoted Aunt Betty. “And, I fancy, 
it is a good thing that it does. Now, before 
we go, I should like another look at that torn 
bit of parchment, that has so safely guarded 


THE OLD DIARY 


183 

the secret of the hidden treasure for so long a 
time. I wish to compare it with my copy, to 
make sure that the one I have is absolutely 
correct.” 

“Take it with you,” smiled back Mrs. Rose- 
wood. “You are welcome to all the informa- 
tion you can get out of it,” and she lifted the 
old parchment out of the casket and handed it 
to Aunt Betty. 

“Thank you. I will see that it is returned 
safely. Now, we must be going. You have 
given us a delightful time; and, in the names 
of all the girls and the boys, I thank you. 
Come,” and Aunt Betty, with an anxious look 
at the white face on the pillow, which was 
beginning to show the strain of the already too 
prolonged visit, hurried the young people out 
of the sick-room. 

“Now, for the big chimney in the cellar,” 
whispered Ray excitedly, the moment the door 
of the sick-room closed behind them. “It’s 
our only hope now.” 

“Yes,” assented Aunt Betty. “We will try 
the big chimney next; but I have little faith 
in it. Now, if you will wait in the parlor, I 


184 BURIED TREASURE 

will get Mr. Davis,” and she hurried away to 
find the two men left to guard the interests of 
Dean Alton, while the children entered the 
parlor and there impatiently awaited her re- 
turn. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE OLD CHIMNEY 

In five minutes Aunt Betty was back with 
Davis, armed with the needed tools. She at 
once led the way down into the cellar. 

“By George, she is a big one!” exclaimed 
Mr. Davis, the moment he caught sight of the 
huge base of the great chimney. I don’t won- 
der you think there may be a secret chamber 
hidden inside of it. It’s big enough to hide 
one, that’s certain. But, we’ll soon see. Now, 
for the solving of the mystery of the Great 
Chimney!” and, picking up a large hammer, 
he began pounding with it on the chimney, at 
the same time holding his ear close to the 
stonework and listening intently. “Sounds 
solid,” he said, a look of disappointment on 
his face, after he had pounded on various 
parts of the chimney. “I am certain I could 
185 


186 BURIED TREASURE 

tell by the sound, if I struck a hollow spot.” 

“But you have only pounded low. Pound 
up higher, as high as your head!” cried Ray. 

“All right, son,” laughed Davis, straight- 
ening up and beginning to pound along the 
face of the chimney at about the height of 
his head. 

Suddenly, when midway across the broad 
face, he clapped his ear close to the chimney 
and listened intently, as he struck a stone near 
his head a violent blow with the hammer. 

“What is it? What is it?” cried the excited 
Ray, pressing close to Mr. Davis, while the 
others crowded around the two, Jennie almost 
yelling: “Have you found it? O, have you 
found it?” 

“Well, it certainly does sound hollow,” an- 
swered Davis, as he struck the chimney a hard 
blow. “Right here, alongside of my head. By 
George, I hope it is the secret treasure-vault! 
I hate like sin to see Mrs. Rosewood turned 
out of her old home. Well, ’twon’t take long 
to find out. Hand me that chisel,” and he 
pointed to a heavy chisel that lay among the 
little pile of tools that had been dropped on 


THE OLD CHIMNEY 187 

the floor of the cellar, when he began pound- 
ing on the chimney with the hammer. 

Ray and Arthur both made so sudden a 
jump for the chisel that their heads came to- 
gether with a thump that sounded like the 
crack of a bat on a baseball; but each was so 
excited that he never felt the bump — until 
afterwards. Ray secured the chisel and 
quickly handed it to Mr. Davis, who at once 
began chipping pieces of stone and mortar out 
of the chimney at the spot where the stone- 
work had sounded hollow. 

The chimney was very solidly made and the 
digging of a hole through its hard masonry 
was a slow and difficult job, even for a skilled 
mason; but, at last, the excited and impatient 
children saw the chisel, at the stroke of the 
hammer, suddenly shoot forward and almost 
disappear into the hole made in the chimney 
and knew that the hollow within had been 
reached. Davis, now almost as excited as the 
children, redoubled his efforts; but, for a good 
five minutes, the hard stone resisted his ham- 
mer and chisel. 

This was an exciting five minutes for our 


BURIED TREASURE 


young friends. Even Aunt Betty’s face whit- 
ened under the stress of their slow passing. 
What would the opening of the hollow within 
the chimney reveal? Would they find the 
long-lost treasure within? Was the dear old 
home of Mrs. Rosewood to be saved at last? 
No one spoke. Every eye was on Davis. At 
every stroke of his hammer each strained for- 
ward; and, when, at last, the resisting rock 
gave way and fell inward into the hollow, all 
jumped, as if moved by the same shaft of ma- 
chinery, and, pressing close to the opening, en- 
deavored to -look within. 

“Room! Give me room!” cried Davis ex- 
citedly, as he thrust one of his long arms into 
the hole and endeavored to search the hollow 
within with his hand. 

“Is — is the treasure there? O, tell us 
quick!” and Williamina, almost breathless 
with excitement, caught hold of the free arm 
of Davis and began jerking it violently. 

“A light! Quick, someone bring me a can- 
dle! The hollow is so large that I cannot feel 
top or bottom or sides with my hand and so 
dark I cannot see what is inside. Someone 


THE OLD CHIMNEY 189 

hurry and get a candle,” and Davis turned im- 
patiently to the crowding, questioning chil- 
dren. 

Constance and Mildred both raced up the 
stairs after candles; and, in three minutes, the 
excited girls were back, each with a candle in 
her hand. 

The hole that Davis had dug through the 
thick wall of the chimney was nearly round 
and some eighteen inches in diameter, large 
enough for a small boy to crawl into; and, the 
moment the girls were back with the candles, 
Aunt Betty turned to George, the smallest boy 
present. 

“Here, take the candle, George, you are the 
smallest,” and she lighted one of the candles 
and handed it to him; “and crawl into the hole 
and find out what is inside. Davis will give 
you a boost.” 

“O, let me, let me go!” cried Ray and Ar- 
thur, both jumping up and down with excite- 
ment and each making a grab for the 
candle. 

But George was too quick for them. He 
seized the candle out of Aunt Betty’s hand 


BURIED TREASURE 


190 

and turned to Davis, who stood, with the other 
candle lighted, peering into the hole. 

“Quick, give me a boost up to the hole!” he 
cried, holding up the candle in a hand that 
trembled with the excitement of that exciting 
moment so violently there was danger of his 
shaking the light out. 

“Reckon I’d better,” Davis answered; “for 
I can’t see nothing inside but a big hole. Here 
we go, son. Now let out a whoop, if you find 
the treasure,” and, catching George up in his 
strong arms, he thrust him headfirst into the 
hole. 

George held the candle out .in front of him 
and crawled slowly into the hole, until all of 
his body down to his knees had disappeared to 
the excited eyes of his companions. Here he 
remained motionless for a minute, then, with 
a yell of fright and violent kicks backward, he 
projected himself out of the hole so suddenly 
that he tumbled feet first into the arms of the 
startled Davis, who, in his excitement, had 
crowded up close to the hole. 

The boys yelled, the girls jumped backward 
and screamed; for George’s startling exit was 


THE OLD CHIMNEY 


191 


followed instantly by a huge gray rat that 
made a wild leap outward and landed plump 
on the breast of Jerry and almost on top of 
the little black kitten, the boys’ mascot, which 
he held in his arms. 

Jerry jumped and yelled. The black kit- 
ten spit and jumped. 

Williamina stood nearest to Jerry, and the 
frightened kitten landed on one of her shoul- 
ders. She thought it was the rat; and, throw- 
ing up both her hands, all forgetful of the 
precious doll she held in her arms, she 
screamed at the top of her voice. 

The doll tumbled from her arms and fell 
to the hard floor of the cellar, striking on its 
head and breaking into a dozen pieces. 

For a brief minute all was confusion; and 
the girls were half-way up the cellar stairs be- 
fore the loud laugh of Davis and the scoffing 
shout of the boys: “It was only a rat!” re- 
called them partially to their senses. 

Aunt Betty, the moment she had recovered 
from the start George and the rat had given 
her, seized the frightened boy by both of his 
shoulders, shook him violently and demanded 


BURIED TREASURE 


192 

to be told what it was that he had seen inside 
the chimney. 

But George, who still trembled from his 
sudden fright, could give little information. 
The light of the candle had showed him a 
long narrow opening; and then the rat had 
jumped straight at his face — and he had come 
out! 

“ O , it is the secret chamber! It must be the 
secret chamber!” cried Constance, who was 
the first of the girls to recover the full use of 
her senses. “Quick, somebody crawl into the 
hole and see if the treasure is in there!” 

“Who’ll volunteer?” and Aunt Betty 
glanced suggestively toward Ray and Arthur. 

For a moment both boys hesitated, their 
eyes glancing uneasily into the dark depths of 
the hole, then Ray straightened up. 

“Shucks, ’twas only a rat ! Give me the can- 
dle,” and, stepping up to Davis, he took the 
lighted candle from his hand. “Now, boost 
me into the hole.” 

Davis boosted him; and he, too, disappeared 
into the hole, all but his legs and feet below 
his knees. 


THE OLD CHIMNEY 


193 

For three or four minutes the girls and the 
boys and Aunt Betty and Davis stood watch- 
ing those two projecting feet, almost breath- 
less with excitement. No one spoke and no 
one moved; but all kept their eyes steadfastly 
on those two feet, the barometer of their 
hopes. Then slowly the feet began to move 
backward; and Ray crawled out of the hole. 
When he landed on his feet outside, his head 
and shoulders were covered with dust and 
cobwebs. 

“Did you — did you find the treasure ?” 
screamed Jennie, the moment his feet touched 
the floor. “Tell us — tell us quick!” 

• Ray shook the dust off his head and shoul- 
ders and glowered about. 

“Naw! It’s nothing but a chimney hole!” 
and his face showed his deep disgust and dis- 
appointment. 

“O dear ! And I felt sure that we had found 
the treasure at last!” and Williamina looked 
as if she were about to cry, then she started 
violently. For the first time since it had 
fallen, she missed the doll out of her arms. 
“My doll, Queen Esther! O, what has hap- 


194 


BURIED TREASURE 


pened to her?” and she glanced wildly around. 
Her eyes caught sight of the body of the doll 
lying on the floor, the pieces of its broken head 
scattered all around it, and, with a cry of an- 
guish, she caught the body up in her arms, 
sobbing as if her heart was broken. 


CHAPTER XXI 


HOW THE MASCOTS HELPED 

The girls all crowded around Williamina 
to comfort her, while Aunt Betty stooped to 
pick up the fragments of the head, thinking 
that they might be cemented together and the 
head made whole again. In about a minute 
she straightened up, a yellow, crumpled bit of 
old parchment in her hands, which she was 
smoothing out with trembling fingers and 
studying intently, while a look of wondering 
comprehension and glad surprise was over- 
spreading her face. Suddenly she flung up 
her arm and waved the yellowed bit of parch- 
ment wildly around her head. 

“Eureka! Eureka!” she shouted, dancing 
about like one suddenly gone mad. “I have 
found it! I have found it!” 

Constance was the first to recover from the 
195 


196 BURIED TREASURE 

fright these wild words and wilder actions had 
caused, the first to get an inkling of what had 
happened, and her eyes lit up with excite- 
ment. 

“Found what?” she cried, hurrying to the 
side of Aunt Betty. “What have you found?” 

Aunt Betty calmed down at once; but her 
face was still radiant. 

“I am sure,” she said, holding out the 
crumpled and yellowed bit of old parchment, 
“that I have found the key to the torn parch- 
ment that tells where the treasure is hidden. 
I am quite sure I have found it; but, to make 
certain, let us go where there is more light,” 
and she hurried out through the cellar door 
into the clear sunlight of the yard, followed 
by the mystified and wondering children and 
the equally mystified and wondering Davis. 

Aunt Betty hastened to a near-by log, where 
the light was bright and clear, seated herself 
on the log, hastily took out of her pocket the 
torn parchment that Mrs. Rosewood had 
handed her just before she left her room, and, 
spreading it out on one of her knees, began 
carefully comparing it with the yellowed and 


HOW THE MASCOTS HELPED 197 

crumpled piece of parchment she had picked 
up from the cellar floor, which she had spread 
out on her other knee. 

The excited young people crowded close 
around her, each one striving to get sight of 
what was on that mysterious piece of parch- 
ment that had so greatly excited their friend. 

For two or three minutes Aunt Betty studied 
the two pieces of parchment intently, paying 
not the slightest attention to the crowding 
children and their crowding questions. Then 
she stood up, her face shining. 

“Yes,” she said, “it is the key, the key that 
will unlock the mystery of the hidden treas- 
ure. It must have been stuffed into the old 
doll head; for I found it on the cellar floor, 
when I stooped to pick up the pieces of the 
broken china head. Now,” and she raised a 
hand warningly, as she saw the mouth of every 
boy and girl open ready to shoot out a ques- 
tion, “keep quiet, all of you, while I fit the key 
into the lock and solve this ancient mystery,” 
and, taking out her note-book and pencil, she 
again seated herself on the log, spread out the 
two pieces of old parchment on her knee, one 


198 BURIED TREASURE 

above the other, and began studying them care- 
fully. In three minutes she looked up tri- 
umphantly. 

“I have it,” she said jubilantly. “Just be 
patient for a few moments longer and I will 
show you how to read this old parchment that 
has baffled all for so many generations,” and, 
opening her note-book, she began slowly and 
with much glancing from one piece of old 
parchment to the other, to write in the note- 
book, while the children stood crowding close 
around her, watching with fascinated eyes as 
she set down in the note-book the results of 
her studies. 

“Does she mean that she has really found 
out how to find the treasure?” whispered Will- 
iamina to Constance, her eyes big with 
wonder. 

“Yes,” answered Constance, her voice trem- 
bling with suppressed excitement. “She 
means that she has found the missing key, the 
paper that tells how to read what is written 
on the torn parchment that tells where the 
treasure is hidden.” 

“O, but I am glad!” and Williamina’s face 


HOW THE MASCOTS HELPED 199 

fairly shone. “Now we can find the treasure 
and pay off Dean Alton and save this dear old 
home for Mrs. Rosewood. O, but I am glad! 
I want to go and tell Mrs. Rosewood right 
now.” 

“No,” and Aunt Betty looked quickly up. 
“We must not let Mrs. Rosewood hear a word 
of this, until we have found the treasure. It 
would not do to raise false hopes and then 
have them dashed to the ground. There 
might be no treasure now, where these papers 
say it is hidden. Many things might have 
happened to it in the course of the hundred 
and more years since it was hidden. We will 
be sure that we have found the treasure be- 
fore we say anything to Mrs. Rosewood about 
it” 

“Have — have you really found the key to 
what is written on the parchment? And can 
you read it now? And does it tell us where to 
look for the treasure?” eagerly questioned 
Ray. 

“Yes, the solution is very easy, once the key 
is in your possession; but it would be impos- 
sible to solve it without the key. Now gather 


200 BURIED TREASURE 

closer around me and I will show you How it 
goes.” 

All squeezed their heads together as closely 
as possible around the head of Aunt Betty and 
looked at the pieces of old parchment as if 
they were trying to devour them with their 
eyes. 

“Read this,” and Aunt Betty held up the 
torn parchment she had received from Mrs. 
Rosewood where all could see it. 

This is what they read, written in faded ink 
and in the quaint script of the long ago: 

WHERE I HID THE TREASURE 

North -^ 3 - feet, ept — ^ feet, south- 

feet, east - feet, — — - key — 

in — end of — of bridge, — flat rock. 


49 — 99—45 
6 feet und. 

The parchment, which was a sheet some 
seven inches wide, had been rudely torn 
across, so that all of the lower inscription, ex- 


HOW THE MASCOTS HELPED 201 


cept the figures shown and the word, feet, and 
a part of another word had been lost. 

“You will remember,” explained Aunt 
Betty, “that Mrs. Rosewood told us that the 
same bullet that killed her great-great-grand- 
father passed through the wallet in his pocket, 
which contained this parchment, and de- 
stroyed part of the sheet, leaving it as you see 
it now. Evidently the lower inscription was 
the key, by the aid of which the upper inscrip- 
tion could be read. Now,” and she held up the 
yellowed piece of parchment she had found, 
crumpled up in a tight wad, on the floor of the 
cellar, “read this.” 

The piece of old parchment was some six 
inches square, yellowed with age and covered 
with innumerable creases from the crumpling 
it had received; but its faded writing, evi- 
dently in the same hand as the writing on the 
other parchment, could still be plainly read. 

The excited children now all fixed their 
eyes on this old bit of parchment, even Davis 
bent over the heads of the others to get a 
good look at it. This is what they read, writ- 
ten near its center: 


BURIED TREASURE 

KEY TO WHERE I HID THE TREASURE 


49 — 99 — 45 — 1 8 — from — stone — east 
arch — 6 feet under . 

“Well, I don’t see how that helps any,” 
complained Ray disappointedly. “It is just 
a lot of figures and words and dashes that 
don’t make any sense no matter how you read 
them.” 

“O, I see! I see how it goes!” cried Con- 
stance exultingly. “The dashes in the writ- 
ing on the torn parchment show where figures 
and words have been omitted; and the key 
contains the omitted words and figures.” 

“Right,” smiled Aunt Betty. “Now,” and 
she tore a leaf out of her note-book, “here, on 
this paper, I have supplied the missing words 
and figures, as given in the key; and this is the 
result,” and she held the leaf up where all 
could read it, her face and eyes glowing tri- 
umphantly. 

All stretched their necks to the utmost, to 
get as near the paper as possible, and read, 
with eyes growing big and round with won- 


HOW THE MASCOTS HELPED 203 

der and joy, the following, that Aunt Betty 
had written on the leaf torn from her note- 
book: 


WHERE I HID THE TREASURE 

North 49 feet, east 99 feet, south 45 
feet, east 18 feet from keystone in east 
end of arch of bridge, 6 feet under 
flat rock. 

“Hurrah!” yelled Ray, the moment his eyes 
and brain had taken in the significance of what 
he saw written on the paper. “Glory be, we’ve 
got old Alton now!” 

“Hush!” warned Aunt Betty. “Remember 
Mrs. Rosewood’s condition. We must leave 
out all the yelling and cheering.” 

“But I don’t just understand it yet,” hesi- 
tated Williamina. “How does that piece of 
paper tell us where the treasure is hidden?” 

“Why, it is as plain as the nose on your 
face,” grinned Ray joyously. “You see, you 
start from the keystone in the east end of the 
arch of the bridge and measure off just as 


BURIED TREASURE 


204 

many feet as it tells you to, in the direction it 
tells you to, and keep on doing it as long as it 
tells you to, and then you will come to a flat 
rock, and six feet under this flat rock is the 
treasure.” 

“O-o-o-o-o!” and Williamina’s dark eyes 
grew very big and round. “Then let’s hurry 
and measure off the distances and dig up the 
treasure.” 

“Bully idea! Let’s get after the treasure,” 
and Ray turned eagerly to Aunt Betty. “The 
sooner we find it the better.” 

“Right,” she agreed. “But we must find 
something to measure the distances with and 
a spade to dig with first. You girls wait right 
here, while Mr. Davis and the boys and I see 
if we can find the needed tools. Come on,” 
and Aunt Betty, accompanied by Mr. Davis 
and the boys, hurried off in the direction of 
the barns, leaving the anxious girls to await 
their return as calmly as the excited condition 
of their minds permitted. 



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CHAPTER XXII 


THE BURIED TREASURE 

When Aunt Betty and Mr. Davis and the 
boys returned, they had a couple of spades, a 
pickax and a hundred-foot reel measure with 
them, which, gave them all the tools they 
needed to prosecute their search for the long- 
hidden treasure of Mrs. Rosewood’s Revolu- 
tionary ancestors. 

“Now, which of the two bridges do you 
suppose is meant?” queried Ray anxiously. 
“The one across the mill-pond, or that old 
stone bridge there across Silver Stream?” and 
he pointed to the old stone bridge that crossed 
Silver Stream a little below the house. 

“Why, the old stone bridge, of course,” 
answered Aunt Betty; “for the very reason 
that the other bridge was not built until long 
after the treasure was hidden.” 

205 


206 BURIED TREASURE 

“Then, come on!” and Ray started for the 
old bridge, as fast as his legs could take him, 
followed by the other boys and girls. 

There were really two keystones in the east 
end of the arch of the old stone bridge; but 
both were small and so close together that 
their number did not matter. 

Aunt Betty directed Ray to hold one end of 
Mr. Davis’s long steel measuring tape direct- 
ly between these two stones, while Mr. Davis, 
followed anxiously by every other girl and 
boy, measured off forty-nine feet due north, 
according to the compass held by Aunt Betty, 
who sighted for direction over the long thin 
tape. Here Arthur drove a sharpened stake 
into the ground to mark the spot. Then Aunt 
Betty and Ray moved up to this stake; and 
Mr. Davis, in the same manner as before, 
measured off ninety-nine feet due east from the 
stake. Here again Arthur drove another 
sharpened stake into the ground; and again 
Mr. Davis measured off forty-five feet due 
south from this stake. Arthur now drove an- 
other sharpened stake into the ground to mark 
this spot; and, with hands that trembled a 


THE BURIED TREASURE 207 

little with the excitement that by now had got 
even into his own blood, Mr. Davis made the 
last measurement called for, eighteen feet 
due east from this last stake. If their 
measurements and directions were correct, 
they had now reached the exact spot where the 
treasure had been buried, according to the 
pieces of old parchment. 

But no flat rock marked the spot, at least 
it did not show above the ground! 

“We might have missed the exact spot by a 
few feet,” declared Aunt Betty, as she hurried 
up, looking anxiously around, but seeing no 
near-by flat rock; “or,” and her face brighten- 
ed, “the rock might have been removed; or 
time might have buried it out of sight. First, 
let us see if we can find such a rock near where 
our measurements say it should be.” 

Davis seized the pickax and began driving 
its sharp points into the ground all around the 
spot where Arthur had driven the final stake 
to mark the place where the treasure was 
buried. The ground was stony and he had no 
trouble hitting rock; but all that he struck 
were small and round. At last, however, 


2o8 


BURIED TREASURE 


about ten feet from the marked spot, the sharp 
point of the pick struck a solid piece of rock 
that appeared to be flat to the feel of the pick. 

“Quick, a spade !” he cried. 

Arthur and Ray, each with a spade in his 
hand, jumped to the side of Davis, who jerked 
the spade out of Arthur’s hands and began 
digging the dirt off the top of the rock, Ray 
assisting him with the other spade. In a few 
minutes they had uncovered the rock. 

It was a flat rock, about four feet long, 
by three feet wide, and some eight inches 
thick! 

“Hurrah! The rock! It is the flat rock!” 
and Davis, now greatly excited, dropped his 
spade, seized the pick and driving it into the 
ground under the rock, endeavored to pry it 
loose from its bed. 

Ray hurried to his aid with his spade. Ar- 
thur seized the spade Davis had dropped and 
joined the two. The others formed a circle 
around them, a circle of as excited girls and 
boys as could be found anywhere in the United 
States. The joint efforts of Davis and the two 
boys were successful; and slowly the rock was 


THE BURIED TREASURE 209 

forced out of its ancient bed and hurriedly 
shoved to one side. 

“Six feet under flat rock! Six feet down!” 
and now greatly excited Davis again grabbed 
the spade away from Arthur and began dig- 
ging at the spot where the flat rock had lain, 
as if his life depended on the amount of dirt he 
threw out per second. 

Ray joined him; and, together, the two 
made the dirt fly. Soon the hole became too 
deep for both to work in it together. 

“I can do this kind of work better than you 
can. Let me finish it,” Davis said. 

“You are right,” panted the perspiring Ray. 
“Go to it,” and he jumped out of the hole. 

The digging was not hard and the muscular 
and work-hardened Davis made rapid prog- 
ress. 

Aunt Betty crouched near the edge of the 
hole, measuring tape in hands. Occasionally 
she dropped the tape down into the hole and 
noted the depth reached. 

“Three feet — four feet — five feet — only six 
inches more!” she called at intervals. 

Suddenly the spade of Davis struck some 


210 


BURIED TREASURE 


hard substance — stone or the treasure-chest? 
A few more spadefulls of dirt would show 
which ! 

Every head was now bending perilously 
over the hole. There was danger of all tum- 
bling down in a bunch on top of Davis. 

A dozen more thrusts with the spade; and, 
with a cry hardly articulate, Davis dropped 
the spade, reached down and gripped some- 
thing with both hands. A vigorous tug or 
two — and he stood up, grasping in both hands 
a rusty, soil-stained iron chest, two feet long, 
a foot and a half wide and some sixteen inches 
deep! 

“Confounded heavy! Give me a hand,” he 
said, his voice sounding hoarse and unnatural. 

Aunt Betty reached down and caught hold 
of one end of the chest. Davis heaved up- 
ward; and the long-buried treasure of Mrs. 
Rosewood’s long-dead ancestor stood once 
more on top of the earth. 

For a moment no one spoke, no one moved; 
but all stood staring at the chest, fascinated by 
the rusty old iron box. Then Williamina 
looked up. 



THE LONG-BURIED TREASURE OF MRS. ROSEWOOD’S LONG-DEAD ANCESTOR 
STOOD ONCE MORE ON TOP OF THE EARTH. 







THE BURIED TREASURE 21 li 


“And to think it all came from Queen 
Esther’s broken head!” she said and laughed. 

Her words and laugh broke the tense ner- 
vous strain. All laughed, some of the girls a 
bit hysterically. Davis crawled out of the 
hole and stood by the side of the chest. 

“What now?” he asked, staring down at 
the old chest. 

“We will take the chest to the house and 
there decide what to do under the peculiar 
circumstances. Mrs. Rosewood may not be 
in condition to stand the excitement that news 
of our find would cause her; yet the chest 
must be opened at once and her debt to Dean 
Alton paid as soon as possible, if we would 
save the old home for her. Give me a hand, 
Mr. Davis,’ and, bending down, Aunt Betty 
took hold of one end of the chest, Davis a hold 
of the other, and, followed by the excited 
children, they bore the chest to the house and 
set it down on the floor of the long porch. 

“I see that the doctor is here,” said Aunt 
Betty, glancing toward an automobile that 
stood near the porch. “We will let him de- 
cide whether or not it would be safe to tell 


212 BURIED TREASURE 

Mrs. Rosewood the good news now. Wait 
here and I will find out,” and she hurried into 
the house. 

“O, but isn’t this great? Just like a story 
in a book!” Constance said, the moment the 
door closed behind Aunt Betty. 

“You bet, it’s great! Bully great!” agreed 
Ray emphatically. “It beats anything I ever 
read in any story book. Now if that old chest 
only contains enough gold and silver to pay off 
old Alton, we’ll hold a jubilee celebration that 
will make the welkin ring for fair. I wish 
they’d hurry up and get the old thing open. 
I’m wild to see what’s inside of it.” 

“And to think that we owe it all to our mas- 
cot, to the girls’ mascot! I told you that it 
would surely bring us good luck; and it has!” 
There was no note of triumph in Jennie’s 
voice, only awe and a great wonder at the 
mysterious ways of Providence. 

“But,” declared Arthur, loath to let the 
girls’ mascot get all the honor, “it was our 
mascot that started the good luck. If she had 
not jumped out of Jerry’s arms onto William- 
ina’s shoulder, she would not have dropped the 


THE BURIED TREASURE 213 

doll, and the doll head would not have been 
broken, and Aunt Betty would not have found 
the piece of old parchment with the key on it, 
and we would not have found the treasure. 
So, I think, our mascot deserves some credit, 
too” 

“True, what you say is true,” and Con- 
stance’s face became very solemn and a look 
of awe came into her eyes. “It really does 
seem as if some mysterious power had made 
things come out just right for us. I don’t be- 
lieve things could have just happened to have 
happened this way.” 

“Well, who cares how it happened, since 
it has happened and we have found the treas- 
ure,” protested the practical Ray. “That is 
what we were after; and we got it. Gee, I 
wish Aunt Betty would hurry — A-h-h, here 
she comes!” 

Aunt Betty, accompanied by the doctor, 
who looked very much excited and whose eyes 
sought the rusty old chest the moment he 
stepped out on the porch, came out of the door 
as Ray spoke. 

“Mrs, Rosewood is sleeping soundly,” Aunt 


214 


BURIED TREASURE 


Betty said; “and the doctor says she must not 
be awakened, that the news of the finding of 
the treasure must be kept from her until she 
gets a little stronger, that, if she were told in 
her present weak condition, the excitement 
might kill her. I have talked the matter over 
with him and he agrees with me, that, under 
the circumstances, we must take the matter in 
our own hands and open the chest; and, if it 
contains the supposed treasure and the treas- 
ure is sufficient, use it at once to save Mrs. 
Rosewood’s home for her. The doctor will 
remain to witness the opening of the chest, so 
as to be able to attest to its contents. Mr. 
Davis will also witness the opening and be 
able to certify as to what it contains ; so that we 
think the interests of Mrs. Rosewood will be 
legally safeguarded without her presence. 
Now, to get the excitement of the opening of 
the chest as far from her as possible, we will 
take the chest to the cellar and open it there. 
Give Davis a hand, Doctor.” 

The doctor bent and caught hold of one end 
of the chest, while Davis took hold of the other 
end; and the two men carried the chest 


THE BURIED TREASURE 215 

into the cellar and set it down on the floor. 

They had no key; but the rust had done its 
work so well that it needed only a well-direct- 
ed blow of the hammer and the chisel in the 
skilled hands of Mr. Davis to break the lock 
—and the cover hung loose on its rusty 
hinges. 

“She is ready to open,” and Davis turned to 
Aunt Betty. 

Aunt Betty placed her hands on the cover; 
and then paused. It was like lifting the lid 
of a tomb to raise the cover of this old chest 
that had come to them so strangely out of a 
long-dead past. A moment she paused; and 
then, with hands that trembled, while all the 
others crowded close around her, straining 
their necks for a first glimpse within the chest, 
she pulled the cover slowly upward and back- 
ward, the rusty hinges creaking dismally, as 
if protesting against this desecration of the 
past — and the long-sought treasure-chest of 
Mrs. Rosewood’s Revolutionary ancestor lay 
open before their eyes! 

Several thicknesses of heavy cloth, now 
moldy and rotten with age, were pressed down 


216 BURIED TREASURE 

tightly on top of the contents of the old chest. 
Aunt Betty carefully removed the cloth; and 
exposed a tightly packed mass of coinlike 
metal, blackened and discolored by its long 
burial in the earth, to the eyes of the excited 
girls and boys. 

“O, dear, and it is nothing but a dirty lot 
of pieces of old black metal after all!” ex- 
claimed Williamina, almost ready to cry with 
disappointment. 

Aunt Betty smiled and, picking up one of 
the pieces of metal, scraped its edge on a 
stone, and then held the scraped edge up be- 
fore the eyes of Williamina. 

“Gold! It’s gold!” she cried, as the yellow 
gleam, where the stone had scraped off the 
discolorations shone into her wondering 
eyes. 

“Yes,” answered Aunt Betty, “these pieces 
of metal, discolored by their long burial in 
the earth, are gold and silver coins. Now,” 
and she stood up, her face shining with the 
joy this fortunate ending of the search for the 
hidden treasure had brought her. “I do not 
think we had best count the coins here; but 


THE BURIED TREASURE 217 

the doctor and I will take the chest and its 
contents to Newburg, just as they are, to one 
of the banks; and there, with the aid of the 
bank officials, ascertain the present value of 
the gold and silver within the chest. Do you 
not think that would be the wisest course, 
doctor?” 

“Yes,” answered the doctor. “But we must 
start at once, if we would get there before the 
bank closes,” and he glanced at his watch. 
“Hurry and get the chest into the automobile, 
we do not have a moment to spare.” 

Aunt Betty quickly closed the cover, and, 
with the aid of Davis, tied it securely in place 
with a long piece of cord wound around the 
chest. Then the two men lifted the chest and 
hurried with it to the waiting automobile. 
Aunt Betty and the doctor jumped into the 
car. 

‘You will hear from me to-night by tele- 
phone,” called Aunt Betty, as the doctor start- 
ed the machine. “To-morrow I will go to 
New York City to see Dean Alton,” and she 
smiled joyously; “but I’ll try and be back in 
time to report to you at the next meeting of 


2l8 


BURIED TREASURE 


the Boulder Club. Good-by until then. 
Time is precious now.” 

The doctor turned on full power. The 
automobile leaped forward and rushed madly 
off in the cloud of dust and smoke. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


DEAN ALTON AGAIN 

Promptly on one o’clock, on the day of the 
next meeting of the Boulder Club, the coun- 
cil-fire was lighted on the Great Council- 
Stone of the Dead Chiefs; and all the boys 
and the girls stood circled around it. But no 
business was being transacted and the eyes of 
all were turning constantly and anxiously in 
the direction of the Newburg road that passed 
the field a quarter of a mile away. 

Aunt Betty had telephoned from New- 
burg, as she had promised, that night after 
she and the doctor had deposited the treasure- 
chest in the bank; but she had been in so great 
a hurry to catch the next train to New York 
that she had had time only to shout jubilantly: 
“All is well! Off for New York at once. 

m 


220 


BURIED TREASURE 


Back in time to be at the next meeting of the 
Boulder Club. Hurrah! Good-by.” 

And now the time of the next meeting of the 
Boulder Club had arrived; but Aunt Betty 
had not come, nor had any member of the 
club heard a word from her since that hurry 
telephone message — and there were so many 
things that might have happened to her that 
all were beginning to get very anxious because 
of her non-appearance. 

“O dear! O dear! I do wish she would 
come!” fretted Williamina, as for the dozenth 
time she looked anxiously in the direction of 
the road. “Wouldn’t it be just terrible, if 
something should happen now to keep us from 
helping Mrs. Rosewood?” 

“Don’t talk that way! Don’t think such 
things!” protested Constance half angrily. 
“She will surely come. Her train is late or 
something. What time is it now?” and she 
turned anxiously to Ethel, who was the only 
one that carried a watch. 

“Half past one,” answered Ethel, glancing 
at her watch. “You don’t suppose anything 
really could have happened to Aunt Betty, 


DEAN ALTON AGAIN 


221 


now do you?” and her eyes glanced question- 
ingly around the circle of impatient faces. 

“Naw,” declared Ray emphatically. “She 
is too careful ” 

“But there might have been a train wreck 
or something that she could not help,” inter- 
jected Jennie. She ” 

“Look! Look!” yelled Arthur, pointing ex- 
citedly up the distant road. “I’ll bet that’s 
her; and she’s breaking all the speed laws in 
creation !” 

All turned their eyes in the direction of Ar- 
thur’s pointing finger, where an automobile 
was seen coming down the Newburg road at 
breakneck speed, followed by a cloud of 
whirling dust. When directly opposite the 
spot where the excited girls and boys stood, 
the automobile suddenly stopped, a woman 
jumped out and then the automobile sped on, 
while the woman climbed the fence and hur- 
ried toward them. 

“It is she! It must be Aunt Betty!” yelled 
Ray; and all the girls and boys began 
hurrahing and yelling and swinging their 
hands around their heads and jumping up and 


222 


BURIED TREASURE 


down, while the woman thrust her hand into 
the bosom of her dress and pulled out a small 
bundle of flat-folded papers and began wav- 
ing it excitedly around her head. 

“It is Aunt Betty!” and, with a wild whoop, 
Ray started to meet her as fast as his legs could 
take him, followed by all the other yelling 
girls and boys. 

“Did you pay off Dean Alton?” panted 
Constance, the moment she reached Aunt 
Betty’s side. 

“Have you saved the old home for Mrs. 
Rosewood?” implored Williamina. 

“Was there enough gold and silver to pay 
off everything?” besought Ray. 

“Yes — yes — yes,” laughed Aunt Betty, push- 
ing the excited children from her with both 
hands. “But not another word, not another 
word until we reach the Great Council-Stone 
of the Dead Chiefs.” 

“Then, hurry,” and Constance caught hold 
of one of Aunt Betty’s hands and Ray grabbed 
the other and the two started on the run with 
her for the great rock 

“Now tell us all about it,” demanded Con- 


DEAN ALTON AGAIN 


223 


stance, as Aunt Betty unused to such rapid 
movements, sank pantingly down on the Great 
Council-Stone of the Dead Chiefs. 

“Yes, yes; and please hurry,” and William- 
ina settled down, like a happy bird, by the 
side of Aunt Betty. 

For a moment Aunt Betty sat silent, her 
eyes passing swiftly around the circle of ex- 
cited faces, then her whole face broke into a 
joyous smile and, jumping to her feet, she held 
up the flat-folded, official-looking bundle of 
papers. 

“Here,” she said jubilantly, “are the mort- 
gage papers and their releases, signed by Dean 
Alton and certifying that all Mrs. Rosewood’s 
indebtedness to him has been paid in full, 
No one can take the dear old home from her 
now. Hurrah!” and she swung the papers 
around her head and yelled like a happy 
schoolgirl; and all the girls and the boys 
jumped to their feet and yelled with her. 

“What did Dean Alton say when you paid 
him off?” Constance asked, when the yelling 
had subsided. “Was he mad? I’d like to 
have seen his face, when you told him you had 


224 BURIED TREASURE 

come to pay Mrs. Rosewood’s indebtedness to 
him.” 

“Well,” grinned Aunt Betty happily, “he 
certainly was disappointed; for he had been 
wanting the old place for a long time and he 
thought he had it sure at last. He remem- 
bered me,” and her eyes twinkled; “for, the 
moment I entered his office and he looked up, 
he frowned and his little eyes snapped angrily 
and he asked shortly: ‘well, what can I do for 
you?’; and then his eyes turned inquiringly 
and a little apprehensively to the lawyer who 
accompanied me. 

“ ‘You can get out all the papers relating 
to Mrs. Rosewood’s indebtedness to you,’ I 
answered. ‘I am here to pay you in full in be- 
half of Mrs. Rosewood, who is too ill to come 
herself.’ 

“Dean Alton sat up very straight in his 
chair and his face showed great surprise and 
bitter disappointment; and, if looks could 
have stabbed me, I would have had a dagger 
thrust from each of his eyes. 

“ ‘Mrs. Rosewood must have come into a 
sudden and unexpected inheritance, since your 


DEAN ALTON AGAIN 


225 


last visit here, when I understood from you 
that she was a pauper,’ and his thin tight- 
drawn lips showed his upper teeth in a smile 
that he doubtless meant to be sarcastic, but 
which was wolfish. 

“ ‘I am not here to discuss how she got the 
money,’ I answered bluntly, for his words and 
manners angered me; ‘but to pay you whatever 
she owes you. Kindly give the matter your 
immediate attention.’ 

“ ‘You have the cash with you?’ 

“ ‘Yes.’ 

“He wheeled in his chair and gave a clerk 
instructions to get the necessary papers; and 
the business was soon transacted; and the old 
home of Mrs. Rosewood saved from his 
greedy clutches. 

“ ‘This is something of a surprise to me,’ 
he said, when the money had been paid over 
and the last formality complied with. ‘I had 
supposed that Mrs. Rosewood had exhausted 
all her funds ’ 

“ ‘And so you took advantage of her un- 
fortunate condition,’ I snapped out. ‘You 
must be proud of your chivalrous action!’ 


226 


BURIED TREASURE 


“ ‘I was within my rights. I only did what 
the justice of the law bade me to do,’ he re- 
torted, biting out each word angrily. ‘May I 
have the pleasure of wishing you a good day?’ 

“ ‘The pleasure is mutual. Good day,’ and 
my lawyer and I walked out of the office, the 
precious papers safely in our possession.” 

“Bully for you! Three cheers and a tiger 
for Aunt Betty!” and Ray jumped to his feet 
and led the cheering enthusiastically. 

“And is there any gold and silver left?” in- 
quired Williamina anxiously, when the cheer- 
ing had quieted down. “Enough so Mrs. 
Rosewood will have plenty to live on for the 
rest of her life?” 

“Some of the old coins in the chest have 
become very rare and are now worth much 
more than their face value, so that the bankers 
could not give a definite estimate of the value 
ol the contents of the chest; but they willingly 
advanced me enough to pay all her indebted- 
ness and assured me that the balance left 
would be ample to keep her in comfort all the 
rest of her life.” 

“O, I am so glad! But,” and Williamina 


DEAN ALTON AGAIN 


227 

jumped to her feet, her eyes shining, “has any 
one told Mrs. Rosewood the good news yet?” 

“No, I wished to place the papers, showing 
that her home was free, in her hands before 
telling her of her good fortune; and I thought 
it would be the right thing to have you all with 
me, when I did this and told her how her 
home had been freed from the clutch of Dean 
Alton by our almost miraculous discovery of 
her ancestor’s long-hidden treasure.” 

“And can we tell her now?” and Constance 
was on her feet, followed by all the others, 
who crowded excitedly around Aunt Betty. 
I am sure it will do her more good than all 
the doctor’s medicine in the world.” 

“I think we can,” and Aunt Betty’s face 
showed almost as much excitement as did the 
faces of the children. “That was the doctor, 
who brought me from Newburg; and he has 
gone to the house to make things ready for our 
coming.” 

“Then, let’s be going!” and Williamina and 
Jennie each excitedly caught hold of a hand 
of Aunt Betty and began pulling her in the 
direction of Mrs. Rosewood’s house. 


228 


BURIED TREASURE 


“Never was more willingly led anywhere in 
my life,” laughed Aunt Betty, yielding to 
the soft pressure of the urgent little hands. 
“Come on, everybody. The going is fine,” and 
the joyous Boulderites set out, en masse, on 
their mission of hope and happiness to dear 
old Mrs. Rosewood. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


"ALL is well that ends well" 

WHEN Aunt Betty and her young friends 
reached the General Knox Headquarters 
House, they found the doctor standing on the 
long porch, impatiently awaiting their com- 
ing, his kindly face glowing with gratification 
over the promised happy outcome of all of 
Mrs. Rosewood’s troubles. 

“Mrs. Rosewood is better, much better,” 
he called, rubbing his hands together briskly 
in front of him, as they approached the stoop. 
“Alas, I fear your coming, with your won- 
derful news, will rob me of a patient!” and he 
smiled, as if losing patients was one of the 
most pleasant happenings of his life. “You 
can walk right in. I have told her of your 
coming; and she is very impatient to see you. 
I think her suspicions have been aroused. You 
229 


230 


BURIED TREASURE 


see, I could not keep some of the good news 
from squeezing out through my face and 
eyes,” and his smile broadened into a grin, as 
he swung open the door and led the way into 
the house. 

Mrs. Rosewood sat propped up in her bed, 
with many soft pillows at her back, a slight 
flush of excitement on her fine old face and a 
twinkling brightness in her eyes. She greeted 
them all warmly; and then, at the slight pause 
that came after the greetings were over, she 
looked up smilingly into Aunt Betty’s face. 

“Well, what is it?” she asked. “I know 
from your faces that you have something good 
to tell me; but I can’t imagine what it can be, 
unless ” and her face clouded for a mo- 

ment — “you have found the ideal home for de- 
pendent old women that some of my friends 
have been kind enough to assure me really ex- 
ists, where ” 

“You are a thousand miles off the track!” 
broke in Ray impetuously. “We’ve found 
something that knocks that home-for-depend- 
ent-old-women idea ten thousand miles high- 
er than a cocked hat! We — Huh, I almost 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 231 

told you!” and he clapped both hands over his 
mouth and looked appealingly to Aunt Betty. 

Mrs. Rosewood started slightly at the words 
of Ray and turned a bit impatiently to Aunt 
Betty. 

“Why all this mystery?” she demanded, 
with mock severity. “One might almost 
imagine, from your looks and acts, that you 
had found the illusive hidden treasure of 
my unfortunate ancestor. Well, it certainly 
would be a great find for me these days !” and 
she sighed regretfully. 

“Why, we — we — that is just what we ” 

The hand of Constance, clapped swiftly 
over the mouth of Williamina, was just in 
time. 

Again Mrs. Rosewood started and flushed 
and looked queerly around the circle of ex- 
cited faces that surrounded her bed, as if for 
the first time she had an inkling of what was 
coming; but, before she could speak, Aunt 
Betty stepped quickly to her side. 

“Kindly examine these papers,” she said, 
a little brusquely, and placed the little bundle 
of flat-folded papers in her hands. 


232 


BURIED TREASURE 


Mrs. Rosewood again gave that queer star- 
tled glance around the circle of faces; and 
then, slowly and with fingers that trembled, 
opened the papers and read, her face flushing 
and paling. Suddenly she looked up. She 
was trembling violently. The doctor hurried 
quickly to her side. 

“I — I do not understand,” she said. “What 
do these papers mean? Tell me, quick!” and 
she turned appealingly to Aunt Betty. 

“They mean, that your home is free!” cried 
Aunt Betty, “that no one can take it from you 
now! that you have paid every cent of your 
indebtedness to Dean Alton!” 

“But how? — who? — I cannot understand,” 
stammered Mrs. Rosewood, looking from face 
to face bewilderedly. 

“Whoop! We found the treasure!” yelled 
Arthur, unable longer to repress his feelings. 

“It was in Queen Esther’s head!” explained 
the excited Williamina. 

“Six feet under a flat rock, in a rusty old 
iron chest!” Ethel added. 

“On a crumbled piece of old parchment!” 
exclaimed Ray. 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 233 

“Hush! Hush!” cried Mrs. Rosewood dis- 
tractedly, throwing up both of her trembling 
hands. “I cannot make head or tail out of 
what you are saying. Do, do tell me just what 
has happened and how it happened?” and she 
turned imploringly to Aunt Betty. 

Aunt Betty seated herself by the bedside; 
and, with the happy young folks crowding 
close around her and the doctor and Mrs. 
Brownly as most interested auditors, she told 
Mrs. Rosewood all the wonderful happenings 
that had led up to the discovery of the old iron 
chest full of gold and silver coins; and of how 
she and the doctor, knowing how valuable 
every moment of time was, if they would save 
her home, had hurried to Newburg with the 
chest and had secured enough money on its 
contents to pay off her indebtedness to Dean 
Alton and to free her old home from his 
greedy clutches. There were tears in the eyes 
of Mrs. Rosewood and the look on her face did 
the hearts of the children good to see, when 
Aunt Betty completed her tale. 

“May the good God bless you all!” she said, 
arousing herself from the trancelike condition 


234 


BURIED TREASURE 


in which she had listened to the wondrous re- 
cital and glancing down at the papers in her 
lap to assure herself that it was not a dream. 
“I — I cannot thank you as I should,” and she 
reached out with both hands and gripped the 
hand of Aunt Betty in her trembling grasp, 
while the tears ran down her cheeks. 

“Please make no attempt to thank us, Mrs. 
Rosewood,” smiled Aunt Betty. “We have 
been already more than amply repaid for all 
our trouble by the sight of the joy on your 
face and the thought that now you can spend 
the rest of your life in peace and comfort in 
the home of your fathers. We are very, very 
happy to have been able to have done this for 
you.” 

“I know — I understand — I appreciate it all, 
how much you can never know. I have felt 
all along that your coming would bring a 
blessing with it, you are so young and so full 
of life and hope,” and she turned her wet eyes 
to the circle of young faces. “You have made 
me very, very happy.” 

“And in doing it we have made ourselves 
very, very happy,” smiled Constance; “so I 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 235 

don’t see why you should thank us any more 
than we should thank you.” 

“And to think,” said Aunt Betty, her face 
sobering, “if we had not found that china doll 
head in the ruins of the old Ettrick House, 
we never would have discovered the key; and, 
without the key, we never could have found 
the treasure. It really does seem as if your 
good angel had guided us, as if things had not 
just happened to have happened this way.” 

“And just when the treasure was needed 
most,” supplemented Constance. “It has all 
been as wonderful as a story in a book.” 

“But a heap more interesting,” declared 
Ray. “Now, I wonder how that piece of old 
parchment, with the key written on it, ever 
got into that old doll head. It was a curious 
place in which to hide a thing like that.” 

“I know — at least I think I know,” and 
Williamina’s face flushed with eagerness. 
“Yesterday I was reading in the diary your 
great-grandmother wrote, when she was a 
little girl, and which you gave to me,” and she 
turned to Mrs. Rosewood, her eyes shining, 
“and I came across something written there 


236 BURIED TREASURE 

that I am sure explains how the parchment 
got into Queen Esther’s head. I brought the 
diary with me on purpose to read it to you; 
but, in the excitement, I forgot all about it 
until Ray spoke,” and, thrusting her hand 
down into the bosom of her dress, she pulled 
out the old book and began carefully turning 
over its aged pages. “Here it is,” she said, 
at length. “Now listen,” and she read slowly, 
as follow: 

“‘August 16, 1779 — This day Molly Ett- 
rick and her brother, Tom, came to play with 
me, and we did have great sport with our 
dolls, until Tom did frighten Black Tobby, 
the housecat, so that he jumped suddenly upon 
my shoulder and did give me so great a fright 
that I droped Queen Esther and she did break 
a little hole in the back of her head and I 
cried sorely; but Tom only laughed and bade 
me stuff old paper into the hole to keep the 
head from breaking more and to pretend that 
Queen Esther had been to the war to nurse 
General Washington’s soldiers and had got 
shot in the back of the head; and so I did find 
a piece of paper in my dear mama’s letter 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 237 

casket and did crumple it all up and thrust it 
into Queen Esther’s head; and we did have 
great sport playing that Queen Esther was a 
war-nurse and had been terribly hurt while 
caring for General Washington’s soldiers. 
O, I do wish this cruel war would end and my 
dear papa would come back! I have no one 
to love me now that dear mama has gone, but 
Queen Esther — and now she has a hole in the 
back of her head!’ 

“There are a number of spots that look like 
tear stains and many ink blots on the page,” 
and Williamina looked up from the long-ago- 
written page of the old diary, tears of sym- 
pathy in her own eyes. 

“Poor, poor little motherless girl!” Mrs. 
Rosewood said softly, “motherless and father^ 
less, too, although she evidently had not yet 
been told of the death of her father.” 

“But — but, how do you suppose the doll 
head got into the old Ettrick House?” quer- 
ied Ray wonderingly. “Say, but it is queer 
how things are turning out!” 

“O, the diary explains that, too!” and Will- 
iamina excitedly turned over another page in 


238 BURIED TREASURE 

the old book; “for the very next day she went 
to visit Molly Ettrick and this is what hap- 
pened: 

“ ‘August 17,1779 — This has been a most 
terrible day. In the afternoon I did go 
to visit Molly and Tom, taking Queen Esther 
with me; and, for a time, we did have great 
sport playing that Tom was a wicked British 
officer who had fallen in love with Queen Es- 
ther and was trying to steal her away from us ; 
and he did steal her and ran off with her and 
hid her; and then he did climb a great tree 
to hide from us and fell down and hit his head 
so hard on a stone that he lay dead when Mol- 
ly*and I ran screaming to him; and then every- 
body cried and I ran home; and dear Tom is 
dead and cannot play with us any more; and 
Queen Esther is lost! O, how I wish dear 
mama was here to comfort me!’ ” 

Williamina closed the little book and slip- 
ped it reverently back into the bosom of her 
dress. 

For a minute no one spoke; and there were 
tears in the eyes of each of the girls, and the 
boys rubbed their faces suspiciously with their 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 239 

fists, as all thought of the motherless and 
fatherless little girl mourning all alone in the 
big house over the loss of a dear playmate and 
her loved doll, Queen Esther, forgetting, for 
the moment, the long, long years that had 
passed since the little hand had written the 
last pathetic words with which Williamina 
had closed her reading from the diary. Mrs. 
Rosewood was the first to break the silence. 

“How strange!” she mused, a look akin to 
awe coming into the kindly eyes. “The doll 
head really did belong to my great-grand- 
mother! Poor, unfortunate, orphaned, little 
girl! Her sorrows began early. And to think 
'that she, in the Providence of God, was to be 
the means of restoring to me, through you dear 
children, the home of her ancestors and of 
mine!” 

“And that a black cat should have jumped 
on her shoulder and frightened her, so that 
she dropped the doll and broke it, so that she 
could stuff that piece of old parchment into 
the head; and that now, after so many years, 
another black cat should jump on William- 
ina’s shoulder and frighten her, so that she 


BURIED TREASURE 


240 

dropped the very same doll again and broke 
it, so that we could find the very same piece of 
old parchment that she had stufifed into the 
broken doll head and which told how to find 
the hidden treasure. I tell you it all is mighty 
queer; and I should not be at all surprised to 
find that this black kitten was the great-great- 
great-great-great-grandchild or something of 
that other black cat that jumped on ” 

“O, do shut up! Or we’ll all go daft over 
your black cats,” and Constance clapt a swift 
hand over the imaginative Arthur’s mouth. 
“Let’s all be glad that it happened as it did 
and not bother any more over how it hap- 
pened.” 

“But — but,” and the tears came into Will- 
iamina’s eyes again. “I wish it all might have 
happened without breaking Queen Esther’s 
head all to smash. I did just love that doll!” 

Aunt Betty and the doctor exchanged quick 
smiling glances and the doctor arose and hur- 
ried from the room. In two minutes he was 
back, carrying a package carefully wrapped 
up in paper in his hands, which he gave to 
Aunt Betty, who at once handed the package 


ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 241 

to Williamina and bade the wondering girl 
to open it. 

“O, what can it be?” and in a moment Will- 
iamina’s swift fingers had untied the strings 
and tore off the paper, bringing to light a 
pasteboard box, some two feet long by six 
inches wide. “Dear me, what can it be?” and 
Williamina’ stared down blankly at the box. 

“Open it! Open it, you chump, and see!” 
cried Arthur impatiently, while all the others 
crowded around Williamina. 

Williamina pulled off the cover of the box 
and glanced within. 

“O-h-h-h!” and, with a look of rapture on 
her face, she thrust both hands down into the 
box and pulled out Queen Esther, looking as 
sound and as whole as when new, and hugged 
and kissed her as only a very happy little girl 
could. 

“O, how did you do it?” and she turned 
eyes swimming with glad tears to the smiling 
Aunt Betty. 

“I had picked up all the pieces of the broken 
head from the cellar floor and put them into 
my pocket, before I found the piece of parch- 


BURIED TREASURE 


242 

ment,” answered Aunt Betty; “and, when we 
started for Newburg in such a hurry with the 
chest, I caught up the doll’s body; and, when 
I got to Newburg, I gave the body and the 
pieces of the head to the doctor and asked 
him of he would try and get the doll fixed up 
all right again. He turned them over to the 
doll hospital; and you have the result in your 
arms. I thought a doll with such a wonder- 
ful history ought to be preserved.” 

“O, you are a dear!” and Williamina’s eyes 
glowed with admiration and affection. “And 
I love you next to Queen Esther herself. I 
will keep Queen Esther as my most precious 
treasure as long as I live.” 

“Now,” and the doctor spoke authoritively, 
when the excitement over the rehabilitation of 
Queen Esther had quieted down. “I think 
Mrs. Rosewood has had enough excitement 
for one day and we had better all leave her 
alone with her happiness. I am sure that now 
she will be almost a well woman by morning.” 

“I will! Indeed, I will!” and Mrs. Rose- 
wood’s eyes shone with renewed hope and life. 
“I did not suppose I ever could be as happy 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 243 

again as I am now. But doctor is right. The 
excitement and the happiness have been al- 
most too much for me; and I must ask you to 
leave me now; but, when I am well, we’ll have 
a celebration that will make the old house 
ring. Now, you will excuse me if I say good- 
by to you all at once,” and she sank back on the 
soft pillows of the bed, wearily, but with a 
wondrous look of content and happiness on her 
face, as the doctor and Aunt Betty and the 
young folks, waving her good-by, went joy- 
fully from the room. 


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